Hey, There's A Dead Guy in the Living Room

Wouldn't Wish It On a Dog

Jeff Cohen

This week's post was written by Jeff's dog Gizmo, transcribed and translated from the original Beagle.

I'd like some food. Do you have food? Chicken is best, but any meat will do. Cheese is good,too. Just no bread and no vegetables. I'm not crazy for peanut butter, but cream cheese is AMAZING! Do you have food? Will you give me food?

I have been asked what it's like to live with a mystery author. I have no idea. Is that what the main male is doing all day with his back to me? His dog? It's very rude. I don't actually read books because they are written for humans and require opposable thumbs to read, and besides, they smell like paper, which is fun to tear up but not to eat. Do you have any food?

Before I lived in this building I spent a year in another place where there were many other dogs. The people who worked there weren't mean to us but they didn't care about us very much. They all looked the same because their outer fur was the same. I don't see color well but I could tell they were all in the same tint. Every once in a while one of them would pay attention to me and then I would sleep for a time. Sometimes I'd feel strange after that. I don't remember much about it.

After some time--I don't really remember how much--I was taken in a van to a separate building filled with smells. I could tell many other dogs and some cats--I'm not at all fond of cats--had been here. There was the smell of food and of some interesting things to chew. Many of the other dogs from my first building were there. People came through who were not the people from my home, and many of them stopped to pet me. A few even picked me up and held me.

One of them was the main male, who was there with the main female and the second male and female. They spoke to the woman who had brought me to this place, but then they left. It was quite confusing.

Some time later--it might have been days--I was brought back to the building with the interesting aromas and the people I had met returned. This time we left together and I was taken to my home, where I have now lived for a much longer time than either of the two other buildings.

Do you have any food?

The days here are very stressful. I walk down the stairs each morning when the main female leaves her sleeping area and I lie on the couch for an hour or so until the main male asks if I want to go outside. I do, so we leave and smell the area. Other things happen and then we return, at which time I get a treat.

I love treats. Assuming they're the right ones.

Then it's time for some more lying on the sofa or on the floor if the sun is hitting that area. I stay there until the middle of the day, when the second male usually asks if I want to go outside. I usually do, so I smell more areas and get another treat. 

Occasionally, however, I am subjected to the ultimate indignity: I am lying on the sofa, minding my own business when a large van pulls up outside the building where we live. A man comes and, no matter how I protest, forces me into a place where water and soap are rubbed all over me. Then he waves a loud instrument at me and air pushes my fur. It's horrifying and I spend much of the rest of the day--after being returned to my home from 20 feet away--watching to make sure the man is not coming back. He does not. That day. But I never know when he will return.

I spend most afternoons on the sofa, at which time the main male is sitting with his back to me and doing whatever it is he does. He does not make an interesting noise or smell especially unusual, so I tend to relax.

The main female (and sometimes the second female, who is here only occasionally now) will take me outside for a longer time to smell the area. 

Then it's back to the building and the sofa, where I fall asleep from all the activity. But I will not sleep on the sofa all night because my pack is upstairs and I refuse to climb the stairs myself. The main male must carry me to my upstairs bed where I will sleep until the main females leaves her sleeping area and the next day begins.

And that is what it is like to live with a mystery author. Will you give me food?

 

The main male says to tell you that pitchers and catchers report in 15 days. Do you have any food?

I Might (or Might Not) Have a Little List...

Jeff Cohen

I will not blog about politics... I will not blog about politics... I will not blog about politics... I will not blog about politics...

So! What do YOU want to talk about?

A friend whose opinion I respect recently got in touch with a request I'll admit I hadn't considered before. She said I should write into (assumedly at the beginning of) each book a list of the characters who will be involved in the story. She explained that it helps people who might have trouble keeping up with each name as it appears in the story, particularly those mentioned near the beginning that don't show up again until considerably later.

My feeling on cast lists had always been that if a person can't remember who one of the characters is, I have not done my job adequately. I should have given that character a personality trait or at least a physical attribute meant to make the person stand out and be memorable. If I didn't do that, I should have done better. 

But my friend said that some readers have memory problems and need a reference point, which I'll admit I had not previously considered. So I've been going back and forth on the subject for a while now, and I think for the next Haunted Guesthouse novel (due from Crooked Lane Books in 2018) I might just add that list at the beginning.

Now I have to go back over that manuscript and make a note of every lunatic I invented, then come up with a way to encapsulate each character without giving away the plot. Maybe this whole list thing isn't exactly the greatest invention since the wheel after all. But I'm still going to do it, I think.

It feels like I'm cheating, somehow, but if readers will be helped to have a more enjoyable experience reading my book, I am not the person to argue.

I'll throw it open to the vast population of DEAD GUY readers: Do you like, dislike, or are you completely indifferent to, character lists at the beginnings of mystery novels?

There. I didn't blog about politics. But it was REALLY difficult not doing that. I deserve a cookie, or something.

 

Pitchers and catchers report in 22 days. That's what's keeping me going right now.

Down Side

Jeff Cohen

Last week I posted the best (and probably only) advice I'd give to aspiring authors: Write the book you want to read. And I hinted--no, said straight out--that there was a down side to that practice, and that I'd tell you about that this week.

So I will. It's not exactly what you'd call a huge impediment, but it's something I've noticed about myself and wonder whether other writers have the same issue.

Writing what you want to read is undeniably the best way to write the book you should. This is your chance to fill a gap only you know exists. It's an opportunity to fly in the face of current, transient trends and write something you'll like even after you have to read it for the 17th time for copy editors before it inevitably goes out with some small errors in it anyway.

But here's the thing: Once you've written the book you want to read, you might notice that nobody else is writing that. And that leads to a realization that most books you see on store shelves aren't what you want to read.

This certainly might not apply to you, but I've found that I read less since I started writing books.

Of course, that phenomenon is partly due to the fact that writing books takes up a lot of time and so I have fewer minutes to read other people's work in an average day. It also has something to do with the idea that I spend much of my day reading words, mostly my own, and by the time I have a break--usually at night--I want to do pretty much anything else. 

But there is that small component in a person like me, who as a child would spend an hour trying to pick out exactly the right comic book and then decide not to buy one at all, that says, "Nobody's going to hit your sweet spot exactly. Watch a movie instead."

Granted, it's not a huge thing. I read nonfiction instead of crime fiction for the most part and am trying (again) to get myself into Doris Kearns Goodwin's The Bully Pulpit, about Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft. I did recently read The Daily Show (The Book) and got through it very quickly. It only reinforced my belief that the world would be a better place if Jon Stewart decided to comment on a regular basis again. 

I don't want to overstate this. It's not that I hate all other authors' work because that's not remotely true. I still stop and read some favorite authors as soon as their latest is released and I will try things on audiobook because I like to have that going in the car on longer drives. But I do find that focusing on my writing (the book I want to read) is narrowing my choices of other books I might want to read. I don't know if other authors have this problem, and it hasn't stopped me from reading. But it has slowed me down some.

 

Pitchers and catchers report in 28 days and it can't happen soon enough.

What To Write. Period.

Jeff Cohen

Recently I--among many others--was asked on Facebook (the only place people interact anymore) what my advice would be for someone who "wants to be a writer." My immediate impulse was to tell the person that s/he is either a writer or not already and if there's any doubt, s/he is probably not. But I knew what this person was really asking so I decided to forego that answer because it was obnoxious. I'm on a new kick of trying not to be obnoxious. We'll see how long that lasts.

I gave the question some thought, but not a lot because I already knew what I wanted to say. It's what I always tell people when the subject comes up (as it will when one is foolish enough to identify oneself as a professional writer). Because it really is what I think any aspiring published author should do.

Write the book you want to read.

There are many strategies for getting published, all of which are perfectly legitimate if they work for you and some of which include the idea that you should publish your work independently. Again, absolutely fine if that's your strength. 

But there is an equal number of theories bouncing around that are aimed at making the person espousing the theory money. Many of these purport to analyze the "current publishing market" and reveal what is being purchased from authors in the hope that you, the aspirant, can write something that's "hot" right now and get your foot in the door.

Don't fall for those. They are the equivalent of saying you'll build a wall on the Mexican border to keep Mexicans out and Mexico will pay for it. Seriously. Who'd believe that? 

The fact is that writing to some magic formula that analyzes the market is a sucker's game. For one thing, you'll write a book you don't care about very much, and that means your writing will be considerably less good than it should be. For another, you'll be writing a story that might be in vogue now but won't be in the 18 months or so it takes to hit bookshelves, and editors and publishers know that. So scrap your plans for The Gone Girl on the Train and move on.

Instead, write the book you want to read. Write the story you would immediately pick up if you saw it in a bookstore. Think about what isn't being written because you haven't written it yet, and make that. You'll be more enthusiastic about your own work, you'll be writing something only you could write and even if it doesn't get published, you'll be creating something that will make you proud.

Next week I'll tell you about the down side of following this particular advice, but suffice it to say it won't have any effect whatsoever on your getting your work published. The down side is about you personally not about your work. That's right: I can tell you something about you that you don't know yourself yet. Tune in next Monday.

Until then, get to work. Write the book you want to read.

 

 

Pitchers and catchers report in 35 days.

Nothing of Substance

Jeff Cohen

• They play John Lennon's "Imagine" in Times Square right before the ball drops every year. I don't think anybody really listens to the lyrics.
• As is my family's custom, we watched the Marx Brothers on New Year's Eve. This year, one of the selections was DUCK SOUP. It was eerily prescient. ("If you think this country's bad off now, just wait 'til I get through with it.")
• I thought the Yule Log might be the silliest thing to watch on TV when I was a kid. Now I realize it's tuning in to watch time pass while a million people stand for hours in the cold with silly hats and no bathroom.
• Watching a marathon of The Twilight Zone on a holiday weekend based strictly on the passage of time is a little cruel.
• Baseball should have no offseason. After the World Series, an alternative Major League should begin for four months playing only in warm climates.
• Every once in a while I just can't play guitar. (I'm never really very good.) I can't make simple chords. I figure what little ability I had is leaving me. Then I cut my fingernails and go, "Oh yeah."
• At the end of each year I look for a wall calendar for my office and end up making my own on iPhoto. This year it's pictures of acoustic guitars. 
• Some people look at the beginning of the year as a chance for a sort of rebirth, an opportunity to take stock and make adjustments to improve themselves. I think there's something wrong with those people.
• Every year the Farmer's Almanac tells us in the Northeast that we're going to have a horrendously difficult winter. It's right about half the time.
• The Weather Channel has to stop naming winter storms. That's just stupid.
• People ask me what kind of music I have on when I'm writing. Right now I'm listening to Gerry Rafferty. 
• If I never have to go another wedding that doesn't involve one of my children, I'm fine with that.
• How happy are clams, really?
• Go see LaLa Land. It's an end-of-the-year movie that's not depressing. How often do you get one of those?
• I just read The Daily Show: The Book. I am more convinced than ever that Jon Stewart is a genius and while he is clearly happier, we are lessened by his absence on television.
• Hey. I hope you have a really good year. For the record, I'd like to do the same. Let's put some effort into that.

 

Pitchers and catchers report in 43 days.

See Ya, 2016! (And Don't Come Back!)

Jeff Cohen

A quick post today because it's the day after Christmas, there are five days to New Year's Eve (or as my daughter Eve calls it, "New Year's Me"), and almost everybody's off work today.

It's been an exhausting year and it ain't getting any easier as it draws to a close. Personally, there have been ups and downs. Externally it's been mostly downs, but that's a topic for another time and place. And there's no point in recapping all that's gone on.

Let's just end this day, this week, this year with the hope that things will improve. I know; it doesn't really seem like that's a realistic expectation right now, but it's possible. And keep in mind that we have some small say in our conditions if not our destinies. We can make our voices heard. We can disagree when we disagree and do so loudly. We can demand. 

Some things will be beyond our control, surely. But a new year represents, metaphorically, a re-beginning despite it actually being a continuation. You will not feel that much different next Sunday than you do the day before, depending on how much celebrating you do Saturday night. It's like your birthday--you're technically a year older, but you worked your way up to that moment by living through all the other ones--and you'll be pretty much the same when it comes. Time is a concept we have created to ensure we can be late for meetings.

So here are my wishes for everyone who writes or reads this little blog we've put together: May you get all you deserve and maybe a little bit more. May you stay vigilant and conscious. May you enjoy your work and cherish those you love. Have a little fun. See at least one comedy. Read a book or four. Do all you can to enjoy yourself, but do no harm to yourself or anyone else. Pet a dog. Have a piece of cake. Try to understand, if not agree with, the other side of an argument. Care about people you don't know. Watch a baseball game. Go to the movies and DON'T TALK. See a live play. Listen to music, some maybe that you haven't heard before. Stay out of the hospital but maybe go to the gym. 

And above all, do what makes you happy.

Here's to 2017. We don't know what it'll be. But there is hope in the idea that it could be anything.

It's Just My Opinion

Jeff Cohen

After reading Erin's Friday post I was... well, inspired is probably going too far. But I did take her point about the "unpopular opinions" fad going around Facebook. Yes, people were looking at that prompt and thinking they had to post things that were inherently negative: I hate this, I think this thing everybody likes is stupid, and so on. I have in fact contributed to the problem (saying that I can't stand The Wizard of Oz, an opinion I have expressed here).

And since I think we have rarely been in a situation that required positivity more than the present day, I'd like to be part of the solution. So here are 10--mostly unrelated to crime fiction publishing--positive opinions.

10 Positive But Unpopular Opinions

1. I actually like the Electric Light Orchestra. "Serious" listeners to pop music think Jeff Lynne's 70s band that mixed classical strings and occasionally horns into the arrangement is silly and a sign that one is easily misled. I disagree. Trying something different often resulted in some spurts of genius (There has never been an arrangement besides Lynne's of Roll Over Beethoven that included actual Beethoven) and even though the later years were fairly disposable as Lynne lost interest ("The music plays/so loud and clear/but somehow I can't make you hear/the dream is gone") much of what is there is still worth listening to.

2. I think baseball is infinitely more exciting than football. "Baseball is a slow sport." Sure. If you're not paying attention. You want to be a casual fan who only has to look up every once in a while when 22 men try to knock each other down? Enjoy American football. For a "fast sport," I've never seen an activity that has so much downtime. But hey, to each his own. For me, the fact that something can happen at any time in a baseball game, and the situations that develop around each pitch make it a nail biter from beginning to end.

3. I think there should be cursing in cozy mysteries. I get it--many readers want a clean, safe space to read about violence, death and avarice. That's fine. There should be such a thing without question. But when I write a character who stumbles over a murdered corpse and has to say, "Oh, drat!" I think there should be an alternative. Perhaps two versions of each book should be issued: One with "bad" language and one sanitized for your protection. I don't think people who want a "clean" version are wrong. I just don't think they're all the readers.

4. I'm all for saying "happy holidays." People already think I'm a lefty liberal idiot, so I might as well go the whole way. What's wrong with acknowledging that not everybody celebrates Christmas? What's wrong with noting that not everybody celebrates ANYTHING? Those who rail against "political correctness" are missing the point. It's about accommodating those not in the majority to make everyone feel more comfortable. Where's the problem with that? 

5. I still think Superman is the best hero. Keep your dark brooding types. Think of a better argument in favor of fair immigration: A being from another place comes here, has enough power to take us over and make us do his bidding, and instead decides to use his unique abilities and help in any way he can. There are lessons here and they aren't about who has the best things.

6. I think the Beatles are better than Beyonce. This is not to diminish Ms. Knowles at all. I thought the Beatles were better than Michael Jackson, Elton John and whatever other act was supposed to surpass them. Come up with better songwriting, better musicianship, more innovation and... you can't.

7. I think newspapers will survive. Yes, there will be massive changes and there will be downsizing. But I'm encouraged by the fact that the best investigative, in-depth reporting done during this past election cycle (about which no more will be said) was done by Newsweek and the Washington Post, followed by the New York Times. And in the week after the election, 41,000 people bought subscriptions to the New York Times.

8. I think independent bookstores can prevail over online sellers, and will. Sure, you can buy anything--literally--online and have it at your door within two days. But when you need a suggestion for your next read, do you want it to come from another reader, or from a algorithm? I once had a site recommend a certain DVD to me because I had bought a vacuum cleaner from them. The signs are there. Independent bookstores rule.

9. I think comedy is about to have a renaissance. And I don't mean just because political satire will be EVERYWHERE. I think the tide is turning in comedy and there will be a wider range of product to take in. It doesn't all have to be raunch or children's animation and nothing else, and soon we'll see that it's not. The recent Ghostbusters wasn't a great movie, but it did show off a tiny sample of the talents of Kate McKinnon, and she's going to be huge.

10. I believe the next four years will lead to something good. It'll take a while and it won't be fun, but activists will be born. Already the actor Michael Sheen has announced that he is no longer the actor Michael Sheen and is now the activist Michael Sheen. And the thing about activists is they're the people who get stuff done. Because they're, you know, active.

 

Last positive note: Pitchers and catchers report in 56 days. Happy holidays, to those who celebrate!

How To Write 4 Books a Year

Jeff Cohen

E.J. Copperman

Someone asked me the other day (meaning a day that wasn't today) about having four mystery series going at more or less the same time. And I'll admit that as a concept that sounds pretty impressive. "How do you do that?" she asked.

I like to answer such questions honestly, and I did that time as well. "It's really not that hard," I told her.

Because when you look at it the right way, it's not.

The business of writing four 80,000-word (give or take) books a year is a question of organization and simple arithmetic. If you write 1,000 words a day and take no days off, you'll have a book in about 80 days. Fileas Fogg made it around the world in that much time, but it probably took Jules Verne longer to write that one. That means that you have about 10 days to revise and rest up before starting the next one. Four books a year, and you even get an extra five days off along the way. Six in a leap year. (Not the only reason to hope 2020 gets here in a hurry.)

Well, that sounds like a lot of work. And it is, if writing 1,000 words a day takes you all day, but it shouldn't. Assuming you have a general idea of what you're doing just for that day (3-4 pages double spaced), even with the requisite moments when something stumps you for a bit, you should still have time to go to your day job if you have one, see the spouse and kids for a while, maybe even watch a little TV or read a book that somebody else wrote.

Today (that being the day I wrote this and not today), I graded a number of student papers, watched a full-length movie with my wife, bought a holiday present for a loved one (admittedly online) watched a 90-minute concert online--you should check out the shows Circe Link and Christian Nesmith do from their home once a month--played a little guitar to clear my head, listened to a quiz show on the radio.

And oh yeah, I wrote 1,000 words. 

The trick is to stop mystifying the process. Stop thinking of writing as a spiritual journey taken with a magical muse on your shoulder that must be indulged with rituals and processes, that can be stopped by a mythical disease called "Writer's Block," that happens only when the stars are properly aligned. 

Writing is a creative endeavor, certainly. We make a story where none existed before. But writing is really a job, and when it's treated like one, it can happen quickly and efficiently. Whether or not that decreases the quality of the product is for better minds than mine to determine. I think I do all right.

It doesn't hurt to have a really good agent who can sell four series. That's key, and a deadline certainly provides ample motivation. So does making a living. But the trick is thinking of it as a job. Don't fret it, don't delay it, don't impose layers of artifice on it. 

Just do it.

 

Pitchers and catchers report in 64 days.

Spouse on Haunted Hill--TODAY!

Jeff Cohen

E.J. Copperman

So, this happened.

Sometimes when you really need a lift (and let's just say November 2016 was not my favorite month for a few reasons), one just appears. And when Library Journal lists your novel as one of the Top 5 Mysteries of the Year, that's the very definition of a lift.

But that's not why I gathered you here today. Although you might want to take a peek anyway.

You see, this week the eighth (!) Haunted Guesthouse mystery novel, SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, is being published, and we need to discuss that. Because it's much like the other seven, except it's not.

Here's how the publishing business works: The author (in this case, me) writes the book about a year before it's to be published. When, as in this instance, the novel is the last on the contract from the publisher, there is always the possibility that there will be no offer for more and this will be the last story in the series. Of course, it's a year ahead of time and nobody knows what's really going to happen, so there's also the possibility that the publisher WILL decide on more books or that (as with the Haunted Guesthouse series many months later) the publisher does pass but another publisher decides to continue with more books.

But keep in mind that I'm writing this book a year ago, when everyone thought Jeb Bush would be the Republican nominee. 

As a writer, one has to juggle the possibilities. This was the eighth in the series. Subplots and character interactions had been developed from Book #1 and the writer, as an entertainer, would hate to leave the audience (that, hopefully, is you) without a satisfying ending. So with the state of cozy mystery publishing being what it was in 2015 and what it remains today, writing a conclusion to the series seemed at least a consideration. Don't want to frustrate loyal readers.

But there was the other possibility, which in its own way came true. There WILL be more than eight Haunted Guesthouse mysteries. There will be at least 10 (that's a minimum of two more, the first of which is being written right now). So writing a definitive conclusion to the series would, in retrospect, have been a strategic error. Not to mention, there was no way of knowing when writing this book which way the wind was going to blow. 

So what does an author do? Well, I'm not going to tell you because I want you to read the damn book. But suffice it to say that SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL leaves its possibilities open while offering what hopefully would have been a satisfying conclusion to many things that had been brewing since the series began. It's a high wire act and one that you'll have to read for yourself to determine if I've pulled it off successfully. I look forward to hearing from you. No, really. I mean that.

Suffice it to say: SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL brings back Alison Kerby's ex-husband Steven Rendell, to whom she refers, not at all fondly, as The Swine. Steven blows into town (Harbor Haven, New Jersey) with no suitcases but plenty of baggage: He's skipped out on a very large business deal, owes some shady people a good deal of money, and thinks they might be following him. So he asks if he can stay at Alison's Jersey Shore guesthouse because, this being February, surely she has an available room.

Given his nickname, Alison would be happy to turn The Swine away. But he is the father of her now-teenage daughter Melissa and she (Melissa) would be devastated if anything happened to her dad. So in comes Steven, his debts, his pursuers and his infuriating habits. And before you know, somebody's dead, somebody's suspected and everybody is scrambling for answers.

Meanwhile, Paul Harrison, the resident ghost detective, is distracted by an electrical experiment he believes might propel him into the next level of existence. Maxie Malone, the guesthouse's poltergeist, is carrying on her romance with Everett, the ex-Army ghost who was murdered in a gas station restroom, and Alison's boyfriend Josh is acting oddly. So it's a slightly more hectic week than usual at the Haunted Guesthouse.

And it all wraps up. Or not. Depends, I suppose, on how one looks at it. I hope you take a look and decide for yourself.

Possible Endings for
SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL

1. A random missile from Ft. Dix blows up the guesthouse; (rejected)
2. The ghost of Abraham Lincoln strolls by and emancipates all the other ghosts (unlikely)
3. Melissa grows up to be a paranormal scientist and finds Paul his path to the next level (I wouldn't count on it)
4. It was all a dream (no comment)
5. The Swine sees the error of his ways and remarries Alison (uh-huh)
6. The Guesthouse is shut down by the local Board of Health (plausible, but boring)
7. Something not listed here (most probable, and let's face it, I've read the book)

Only one way to find out, and it starts this week.

Contest Winners and Grumpiness!

Jeff Cohen

The winners of last week's contests:

Copies of SPOUSE IN THE WIND, A Haunted Guesthouse Mystery (coming Dec. 6):

KarenM

Emily Goehner

Adrienne Asher

 

Free codes for the Audible Audiobook of THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND:

PJ Meyers

Amanda Naughton

AM Caldwell

 

Copies of THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND:

Keith Johnson

Kathy Whitmore

Phillis Carbone

Please get in touch by emailing EJCopperman AT gmail DOT com with your mailing address for paper books and email address for audiobook codes. Thanks to everyone who entered!

 

I hope all those who celebrated had a lovely Thanksgiving. November was such an odd, lousy month and the gathering of families can sometimes be so stressful that it can be a trial for some. It is not for my family, largely because we are of the same political stripe so those arguments are few and far between, and because over the years through logistics and circumstance, the group has dwindled to a manageable number.

But never let it be said that I am not thankful for the wonderful readers, reviewers and visitors who help me continue to have a job, as well as for the professionals who help my work look like it's coherent even when my first draft might have been, let's say, a little rough. I am very happy to know each and every one of you, and if I seem grumpier than usual for the next month or so, you may rest in the knowledge that it is certainly no doing of yours. I get this way every year around this time.

In the meantime, here's wishing everyone in the DEAD GUY family and every visitor we get here a tranquil and enjoyable end to a year a lot of us would like to forget very, very soon.

Only 2 Days Left...

Jeff Cohen

In case you missed it:

SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, the eighth Haunted Guesthouse mystery (which is a source of amazement for me--8?) will be available to you in a mere two weeks, on December 6. More on that in a minute.

It will also be the last of the Haunted Guesthouse mysteries to be published by Berkley Prime Crime/Penguin Random House (which sounds like all the publishing companies but isn't). As the publishing business evolves into... something else, it was decided that the Guesthouse series sales numbers were good but not great, and so Berkley chose not to renew the contract or request more books.

But the wild card here is that Josh is a really good agent.

As soon as we were informed that the publisher wanted no more of the Guesthouse books, he was on the phone and it took a remarkably short period of time to contact Crooked Lane Books, the publishers of the Mysterious Detective Mystery series, where the Guesthouse, still well situated on the Jersey Shore in the fictional town of Harbor Haven, could find a new home.

So worry not, Copperman fans. The Haunted Guesthouse will go on. SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, which I think you'll find a special installment in the series, will be followed by at least two more books, probably in 2018 and 2019 if I had to guess, which I don't. I'm writing #9 right now and I'll tell you the title as soon as I think of it. 

In SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, Alison's ex-husband Steven "The Swine" Rendell has returned, and not for a pleasure trip. He's being chased by some unsavory characters after a LOT of money he owes them, but he has a plan: Alison should sell the Guesthouse and give him the profits. Some plan. When one of The Swine's pursuers ends up in an alley with a couple of bullets in him, it's possible she's going to stop being an ex-wife and start being an ex-widow. Or something. 

Meanwhile Paul Harrison the ghostly detective is restless with his inability to leave the house and is working on an experiment to propel him into "the next plane of existence." Alison's daughter Melissa definitely doesn't have a crush on this guy in her class. And Alison's boyfriend Josh is acting strange. There's a lot going on at the Guesthouse, and there will be for books to come.

So let's celebrate! It's time to move some inventory, by which I mean I'm hip-deep in books and need to get some out of my house and into yours. So let's have a contest. No. Let's have THREE contests! And let's make them as completely subjective and random as possible!

Contest the First: Guesthouse fans--search the Internet for mentions of E.J. Copperman or the Haunted Guesthouse series (no fair finding REAL haunted guesthouses!). Find your favorite review of a Guesthouse book, pick out a quote and enter it in Comments below. My three favorites (I told you this would be subjective) will get a copy of SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL. 

Contest the Second: For fans of the Samuel Hoenig Asperger's mystery series, you know of Samuel's special interest in a certain British pop band (if you just thought One Direction, you are disqualified). Name your favorite Beatles song below. If yours is one of the Comments I choose incredibly arbitrarily, you'll win a free CODE. I know, you're excited. Wait. That code will get you a FREE DOWNLOAD of the brand-new audiobook version of THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND performed by Mark Boyett, who was interviewed here not long ago! You plug in the code, you get the book for free, and I will give out THREE codes for that audiobook from Audible.

Contest the Third: You like Samuel Hoenig, but you hate having someone read a book to you brilliantly? No problem! I'll give out THREE FREE copies of THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND on actual pages. To win this one, search the Internet for people rumored to have had Asperger's Syndrome or high-functioning autism in history (you'll be amazed how many there are, and no, we have no idea if any of this is accurate). Choose your favorite and mention him/her in a Comment below. Then get friends to vote for your favorite also in the Comments below (and mention your name). Top three vote getters win! (I could make an election comment here, but I'm exercising restraint.)

Yes, you MAY enter more than one contest, but you may only enter each one time (no multiple answers). And even then, since I'm being completely arbitrary about choosing winners, you may NOT win more than one of the prizes, to be fair to all.

Winners will be announced in this space next Monday, the 28th! Entries must be in by, let's say noon Black Friday, the 25th!

Complicated enough? Get to work!

How I Go On

Jeff Cohen

I had a whole post written that dealt with the events of last week. And I simply couldn't put you through it. If you're desperate for my take on what happened and what I believe is coming, go to my Facebook page, but there is certainly no obligation to do so if you're as weary of all this as I am.

Instead, I'm going to soldier on, as I have been doing with the latest in a series you know about that I can't identify just yet for reasons. I've been working on it for 14 days, which I know because the word count currently stands at exactly 14,000. Haven't gone over yet, and I never go under 1,000 words a day. That's the rule.

This book is taking me places I wasn't prepared to go, but they're interesting and hopefully will be fun for the reader. You might not even notice if you've read another in the series that this is a little unusual, because I'm not suddenly moving the action to Saturn or deciding the main character can fly. But in my mind it's different, and since my mind gets to see it first, that might be significant.

Meanwhile, there's got to be an idea for the book after this one. With a series, you're really telling one LONG story that has episodes, like a television series. So there has to be some consistency but there always has to be an element of change in each story. You (the author) don't want to keep writing the same book over and over, and there is that danger if you're not thinking ahead. So the idea for the next one, in a different series, is germinating as we speak. If I think it's any good, it might show up at a bookstore near you in 2018. Or not.

But there's also the book I wrote about a year ago and haven't seen since. That arrived in the mail this week with copyediting to be checked against. Go remember what I was thinking a year ago. It was such a simpler time. I read each page and have some vague recollection of my original intention, but the upside is that it's not a bad read. Problem: Reading all day makes me sleepy. Not a good endorsement for my own work, but the truth is it would happen no matter whose book I'd be reading. It just makes me need the occasional nap, is all.

So all at once I'm dealing with the past, the present and the future. It's not always easy to be optimistic but it is necessary to keep going no matter what. Those 1,000 words a day have to get written. If I have any regard for my own reputation it would be nice if I strove for them to be good words. A silly story can inspire, it can entertain, or it can be a colossal pain when written badly. There's time for revision and restructuring later. Right now it's just about writing. A thousand words. Every day. Not just because it's November but because it's my job.

Because the important thing is to keep going.

VOTE!

Jeff Cohen

First a word from our sponsor: THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND is now available for preorder as an audiobook. Audible Studios is offering the third Asperger's Mystery novel from E.J. Copperman/Jeff Cohen starting November 15, but you can order it now. This concludes the message from our sponsor.

More important: My last word on America's longest bad acid trip: Votevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevotevote.

That was my last word on the subject. And now: There has never been an accurate depiction of writing in movies or on television. I understand why that is true: Watching someone write is almost as much fun as watching the blank screen but offers less hope for improvement. Even people who write in teams like collaborators or television writing rooms are given to long, quiet, inert phases where nothing is happening. The most you can expect in terms of visual excitement is the writer pacing. The largest sign of progress is... typing.

So it makes sense that no film or television program has ever successfully made drama out of writing. Writers in movies and TV tend to be doing something other than writing when we see them. They are solving crimes (Castle), solving even more crimes (Murder, She Wrote), solving crimes based on their work (The Raven), or searching for inspiration while probably falling in love (all other movies with writers in them).

What's interesting about the depictions in popular entertainment is how much the stories get wrong, given that they were all written by, I'm gonna say writers. Assigned with the impossible task of making the routine of someone like me interesting, most writers punt. They fall back on the popular tropes that have worked before and don't try for a new approach. I understand that impulse too, given the high level of difficulty involved. I wouldn't want to have to write an accurate but engrossing portrait of a writer at work.

On the other hand, even writing a character who happens to be an author and, yes, is helping to solve crimes in the Mysterious Detective Mystery series, I have attempted to provide at least a little realism in the depiction. Rachel Goldman is a mid-list mystery author who just grinds it out. She writes 1,000 words a day (stop me if this sounds familiar) no matter what. She hates revisions. She watches the success of other writers and doesn't so much envy it as wonder why she isn't doing as well. 

Rachel is constantly noticing things she might be able to use in a future book, and is always slightly disappointed in the way her work turns out. It's never quite what she envisioned, but she doesn't have time for that because she has to get another 1,000 words together for today.

She deals with the publishing business' foibles as many of us do: Rachel mostly ignores the industry and relies on her agent and her editor for information. She knows some booksellers but not enough. She has an assistant (which most of us definitely don't, but I wanted Rachel to have someone to ask for research and to talk to, so her assistant works only twice a week). She deals with her small group of fans gratefully but with some astonishment, wondering why they might be so devoted to her creation.

The whole thing about her character leaping off the page and showing up at her door is another story entirely.

Personally, I'm not looking for the accurate portrait of a working writer in popular entertainment because I sincerely believe it would be too dull to provide much amusement. But if anyone in the business would like to discuss putting Rachel up on the screen, they will find no resistance from me.

Bring it on, Hollywood.

 

Vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote vote.

 

Staring at the Blank Page Again. Ahh.

Jeff Cohen

Yeah, yeah, Halloween. Ghosts, goblins (What's a goblin?) (Wait. No. Don't tell me.). Vampires. Dressing up like (if you're an adult) an idiot. Giving out candy. Halloween. Yay.

Now that that's over with:

America's long nightmare is very nearly over. No, no that one, although I think the sigh of relief on Nov. 9 will be audible from Jupiter. I'm talking instead about the fact that this week (in fact, today or tomorrow) I will begin writing a new novel, and the period of inactivity since I turned in my last one will be blissfully done.

So let me say, I'm back! And that's good for America. Because whichever way you're voting, you don't want me hanging around with nothing to do.

I can't tell you anything about the story I'm about to start--yet--but suffice it to say it'll be good to be back at work. I've told you before that I get antsy when there's no work in progress, and nothing I could have started in the last, what, two months? was holding my interest enough to continue. So thanks to Josh and his hard work, I'm back in the saddle (a stupid metaphor) and am concocting story lines even as we speak. 

We're not really speaking. I'm typing this a couple of days before you're reading it, unless you read it at some later date or... this is getting complicated. You know what I mean.

Anyway, it'll be a relief of sorts to get into the 1,000-word-a-day habit again. Except that I'll need to come up with that thousand words a day, which is always something of a brain teaser. See, I've often described my work as "comedy with a mystery in it," and I believe in that, but the fact is, those mystery plots are not easy to devise or maintain. That's the rough part of this job. 

It was once noted (and I have before quoted) by Joseph Mankiewicz that "the difference between life and the movies is that a script has to make sense, and life doesn't." The same is true in every kind of storytelling. Every notion that comes across my feverish little brain while I'm punishing my keyboard for not coming up with the ideas itself has to add up. I can't throw a plot point out there, decide it's not anything, and just leave it hanging. I can't include some outlandish story twist and never explain it. I have to keep all this stuff in my head for the period of months while writing the thousand words a day.

And being a "pantser" from way back (I grew up in Way Back, New Jersey), I don't worry about the plot holding water in advance. I just try to get through the day's assignment. Often the best plot points come when I'm just trying to find the end of the chapter and keep the reader interested enough to start the next one. I've written myself into many a corner that way, and then had to fight my way out. Some of those are the best story points I've ever written.

Others aren't.

Nonetheless I'm looking forward to starting up again, and maybe I'll do that as soon as I finish writing this post. Except... how am I going to start this time?

Choosing a Favorite

Jeff Cohen

Sometimes at an "event," where I'll show up to discuss a book and perhaps try to persuade one or two people--and believe me, it's not unusual that I'm talking to one or two people--to purchase one, or two, the readers there will ask questions of the author, who is me.

Most of them are easy to answer. "How long did it take you to write this book?" Usually somewhere in the area of three months, given my 1000-word-a-day habit and time enough to revise. "Are the characters all based on people you know?" Actually, no they're not. "Where do you get your ideas?" Lowe's. Used to be Home Depot, but I disagree with their politics.

"Which one of these is your favorite?"

Crickets.

A favorite? Among my (so far) 18 novels? Including SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, coming a mere six weeks from tomorrow? You might as well ask me which is my favorite of my children, and I only have two of those. The favorite is the one you just finished, because thank goodness that's over with. The least favorite is always the one you started with, because it's been 14 years and you haven't seen a royalty check yet. Ingrate. 

There are things I like about every book I've written. There are things I absolutely detest about every book I've written. Larry Gelbart once told me he wouldn't watch reruns of M*A*S*H because he'd want to go back and rewrite each one. I completely get that. I'd like to fix all the stuff I didn't see until much later, or that I wouldn't have thought of then but would now. They'd all be so much better if I could just issue revised editions every year. But sales figures and sanity prohibit such a thing.

Besides, reading stuff I've written makes me sleepy, which slows down the process.

And telling you which book was my favorite, if I had one, would be a lose-lose situation anyway. Just because the author likes it best doesn't make it his/her best work. There are sentimental reasons about the time the novel was being written that might color the memory, or a certain character manifested from a cherished memory (I sneak my late father into my books on regular occasions) that make it special to the writer while the reader would never even know such a thing existed, let alone get the emotional benefit.

I tell readers I don't have a favorite among my books because 1) It's true and 2) I don't see how that will help you. If you're interested in an author's work but are not familiar with each title, read the plot description on the back (or the online page for the book--there's plenty of information available). See which one appeals to you. Because what I think is irrelevant to your enjoyment of my work.

Now, I could tell you which PAGE of mine is my personal favorite, and maybe I will next week...

When I Was 45 It Was a Very Good Year

Jeff Cohen

We've just recently passed the 14th anniversary of the publication of  For Whom the Minivan Rolls, the first Aaron Tucker mystery and not coincidentally my first published novel. (I had to look it up, but apparently the book was published officially on October 1, 2002.) So I've been in this business for the past 14 years. And it has been quite the ride.

With the publication of my 18th novel (and 20th book overall, since there are two non-fiction titles) looming on December 6, it seems a good time to sort of take stock and recap. Not about each book specifically, because even I would get sick of that somewhere around Book #11, but about some of the experiences that have come along the way. 

With Minivan I attended my first mystery book conventions, which I have learned to say because when you tell people you're going to a "mystery convention," they think you're attending an event and won't know what it's about until you get there. This one was in Philadelphia, PA and was the late lamented Mid-Atlantic Mystery Convention and Book Fair. It was, in fact, the last one held, which worries me because I start to think it's my fault. 

There I met Mindy Starns Clark, with whom I couldn't have had less in common except that she turned out to be a very nice person who shepherded me through the event. Mindy remains a friend to this day and actually attended a few of my book launch parties despite living 90 minutes away. She brought her husband and children.

Later that year came my first Malice Domestic conference at which I met a number of friends I am proud to count on my side to this day: Leann Sweeney, Lorraine Bartlett, Toni L.P. Kelner, Doris Ann Norris (hi, Doris Ann!), Con Lehane and Jeff Markowitz, among others. I was operating at this point without an agent and had no idea what I was doing, so watching friendly professionals go through the experience of a larger conference had a great deal of value for me.

And Leann still believes, for reasons that defy explanation, that I stole a chair from the hotel, which I emphatically did not. Leann is given to these flights of fancy. It's probably why she's in the fiction business. The chair is still in the hotel. That's all I'm saying.

That was also around the time I attended my first street fair/party at The Black Orchid, the great NYC mystery bookstore that is also late and lamented. More friends met, including my buddy Chris Grabenstein, now a habitué of the New York Times bestseller list, who introduced me some years later to my current excellent agent. (Hi, Josh!)

I bought my first Harlan Coben book at that party and had it signed. 

And that's all from the first book. Perhaps I'd best condense:

• Discovered I like speaking in front of a crowd and discussed Asperger's Syndrome (which apparently also is late, not necessarily lamented) at a conference run by the amazing Lori Sheri;
• Moved to a (much) larger publishing company after signing with my first agent courtesy of a recommendation from my good friend Julia Spencer-Fleming, the nicest person in crime fiction;
• Launched Elliot Freed, about whom there might be news soon, in the Double Feature mystery series thanks to the wonderful Shannon Jamieson Vazquez;
• Won a Barry Award for best short story at a Bouchercon in Cleveland, OH, and accepted the award at a ceremony held at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (and impressed them so much they retired the award for short stories immediately after);
• Started the Haunted Guesthouse mystery series, again thanks to Ms. Jamieson Vazquez, and created an odd character named E.J. Copperman;
• Began collaborating with myself on the Asperger's Mystery series thanks to Terri Bischoff (hi, Terri!).
• Received countless wonderful emails and messages from people who have read the books and enjoyed them. And a few from people who just read them;
• Got to host a talkback at a Broadway show because I write mystery books;
• Started writing the Mysterious Detective Mystery series with great help from Josh and Matt Martz at Crooked Lane Books;
• Met a boyhood crush and idol when Kathryn Leigh Scott showed up at a Malice Domestic;
• Got to know Linda Ellerbee because she blurbed one of the early books and became a friend;
• Met many other wonderful authors like Cornelia Read, Rosemary Harris, Lee Child, Harley Jane Kozak, Jennifer Stanley and so many others I'm afraid to go on because I'll leave someone out;
• Met great fans and readers like Dru Ann Love, Fiona Marsden (hey, Fi! How are things Down Under?), our own Shaz Wheeler (don't be a stranger, Shaz) and again, I'll stop now for fear of offending those I should mention and don't;
• Started a blog with some friends and now have passed 600,000 views!

Those are just a few highlights. Someday when I'm pretentious enough to attempt a memoir perhaps there will be countless more. But enough about me. (And I have that book coming in December and at least three more next year!) 

It's been a pretty good 14 years.

Most Guys Don't Do That. No.

Jeff Cohen

I have (almost) entirely refrained from discussing this massively insane election season on this site. We are for the most part devoted to the publishing of crime fiction, and my opinions on one candidate or another have been relegated largely to social media.  I did make one slip here, and no one seemed offended, but I am cognizant that visitors don't come here to find out what I think about politics and I respect that.

But.

The events of the past few days have brought forth something I feel that I need to address. No, I'm not going to tell you who to vote for if you're an American, although I'm sure it will be interpreted that way by some. That's not my intention. What I feel overwhelmingly obligated to do is to debunk one toxic idea that has been floating around since Friday. If you see that as a denouncement of a candidate, so be it. But that's not what I'm trying to do. Entirely. This is the truth:

No, women. All guys don't talk about you that way. Not me and not anyone I know. We don't do that, we never did, and it's not normal.

What is being discussed on the infamous "hot mic" tapes is nothing less than sexual assault. It is the talk of two men who felt privileged enough to do whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted whether it was desired by the woman or not. That's not "locker room talk" and it's not "boys being boys." And it bothers me when the defense is that "all guys talk like that." 

We really don't. I can't begin to tell you how angry I am that I have to defend that position. Luckily, the women who know me don't have to be told it's true about me. But they might think other men really do have this level of degradation and objectification as a default position. And some, I'm sure, do. Don Draper might have retired, but he isn't extinct yet. 

But not "all guys." Not even close to "all guys." As far as I can tell you from personal experience, no guys I know. We're all looking at each other right now incredulously. We're astonished this kind of thing is seen--by anyone--as acceptable or "mainstream." It's not. And now, when I walk down a random street and see a woman--any woman--walking toward me, I feel the urge to say, "Not me! I don't say that stuff! I don't even think it!" I don't want them thinking such things when they see my son on the street, either. Because they'd be wrong both times.

A long time ago when I was in my early twenties, I was essentially a walking hormone and unattached. I was working in New York City and living on my own and yes, I spent quite a bit of time with my friends, most of whom were in similar social circumstances, discussing various women we knew and hoped perhaps to date.

Guess what--we didn't talk like that then, either. It's not normal, it's not accepted, it's not okay and it's not to be dismissed as "locker room talk." 

And that, in addition to all the rest, is what I object to personally. Now. Vote for whomever you please, but please vote. And when you see or read me, please don't think that "all guys" act like that. We surely don't.

Back to crime fiction next week, I promise.

See Me at Moonstone!

Jeff Cohen/E.J. Copperman

Tuesday night, October 4, I'll be "appearing" (as if out of thin air) at Moonstone Books/Twice Told Tales in Flemington NJ at 7 p.m. I/we will be signing THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND and any other books you buy from our good friend Marilyn that evening (but just the ones I wrote--you can't get me to sign the new Bruce Springsteen book). So if you're even near the area, please drop on by! Here's the info.

Sed-a-give???

Jeff Cohen

Many people of my heritage are spending today and tomorrow in solemn reflection of their past year's transgressions and the possibility of a better year to come. I don't do the spiritual thing so much, but I do have a religious holiday this week and it comes Wednesday night. Please don't call me that evening.

For the first time in many years, the 1974 classic Young Frankenstein will be shown in theaters around the country. Mel Brooks (if I have to tell you who he is, just come back next week) has said he requested the showings as a tribute to the late Gene Wilder and Brooks will deliver a live (on-screen from, the 20th Century Fox lot in Los Angeles) introduction to the film.

It's a lovely gesture and a reminder of quite possibly the best comedy ever made. With a 1927-Yankees kind of cast and a script by Wilder with contributions from Brooks, it's a lovely, faithful homage/lampoon of the great James Whale Frankenstein films of the 1930s starring Boris Karloff (first just "Karloff") as the Creature (later "the Monster"). And if ever a film could be said to exist as a labor of love this is that film.

Brooks was never as clever a director, framing things as Whale would have, playing each joke--and there are tons of jokes--right to the limit but never past it. It's a loving film and staged like a real horror movie except that everyone in it is very silly. 

And wow, was there ever a better-cast comedy? I don't think so. Wilder of course takes the part of the young doctor, so disgusted with his family's history that he pronounces his last name "Fronk-on-steen." His assistant (henchman), upon hearing this, insists his name is pronounced "Eye-gore," and given that he's played by the sublime Marty Feldman, the name sticks. The creation (because it wouldn't be a Frankenstein movie if there was no man made of previously-used parts and lightning) is played by Peter Boyle in what might be his finest performance. I could go all the way down the cast list--Kenneth Mars, Madeline Kahn, Cloris Leachman, Teri Garr and almost unrecognizably Gene Hackman--and there isn't one who isn't perfect. Not good, not great, perfect. Every one.

Wilder was perhaps the master of playing comedy through character. Feldman is the wonderful character who comments on the action because he doesn't have to care. Boyle is the enormous little child trapped in a hulking dangerous body. Leachman plays menace and heart. 

Every situation is set up and executed with care and thought. Every scene is framed and shot with intelligence. It's not just about being funny, although it is always that. It's about being true to the subject matter. That's Mel. It's about being hilarious but with heart. That's Gene. It's about a group of comedy all-stars that know they're doing something special and are clearly having a great time they don't want to end. That's all of them.

So Wednesday night, if you get the chance, go see Young Frankenstein in a theater with an audience. It's where comedy is supposed to be, and this is the greatest comedy ever filmed, I've decided.

And don't look for me then because I will be with my people, after a celebratory dinner, worshipping at our collective temple and hoping for a miracle, that something might be this good again.

It doesn't seem possible, but religious holidays are all about faith, aren't they?

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Jeff Cohen

This is the one thing you'll read today that isn't about The Debate.

Jerry Lewis, at the age of 90, has a new film out now. He didn't write or direct this one, although he did that quite often decades ago; now he's "just an actor." And it's in an indie film about a elderly man who suspects his late wife of 65 years might have had a secret lover. 

That's right. Jerry's doing his dramatic thing now. 

It's not the first time by any stretch. Lewis made a film with Martin Scorsese (oh yes, he did) called KING OF COMEDY in which he held his own quite nicely and without any shtick against no less a talent than Robert De Niro. 

Now, I've never been a huge Jerry Lewis fan despite his growing up in the same town as I did. The man-playing-a-child thing has never really worked for me and I always saw him as something of an embarrassment. I'm not French enough to appreciate his genius, it seems. 

But his move into the "serious" is symptomatic of a larger condition, one that afflicts many if not all people who amuse others for a living. No less a personage than Groucho Marx performed Gilbert & Sullivan (granted, not exactly Oedipus Rex but still) in his later years. His brother Harpo played a mute murder witness on television in the 1950s. Charlie Chaplin played a serial killer. Neil Simon wrote plays about seriously dysfunctional families, addiction and mental illness. Carol Burnett, Dick Van Dyke and Lucille Ball all had the urge to play alcoholics and homeless people. Albert Brooks has lately taken to specializing in tough guys in the classier action films. If Mel Brooks (no relation to Albert, in that "Brooks" isn't either's real name) decides to play King Lear sometime soon, you'll know why.

It's about respect.

You see, those of us who decide to be funny professionally--and I count myself on the low end of those, since I do not actually perform comedy or write it for others to perform--get tired of the backhanded compliments. (My favorite is "effortless." HA!) We chafe at being relegated to the kiddie section, thought of as "cute" and "charming" and--in our eyes--not appreciated for the hard work and, dare I say it, talent we bring to the table. 

Please don't take this too far. I'm not complaining about being seen as the "humorous" author. It's what I set out to be. And the idea of "effortless" comedy is the way it's supposed to be. If you see the joke coming or the effort behind it, you won't laugh. But if you notice the number of funny mysteries given Edgar Awards or comedies given Oscars, you'll notice they're very few and extremely far between. 

Respect comes in a lot of varying forms. Mel Brooks himself was awarded the National Medal of the Arts by President Obama just last Thursday. He had to wait until he hit 90 to get it, but it was a very big honor and Mel accepted it with aplomb, kneeling at the president's feet in a joke about how heavy the medal hung around his neck must have felt. The press then speculated on whether Mr. Brooks had tried to pull the president's pants off.

So lately, with far too much writing time on my hands, I've been trying to decide what my next opus might be and wondering if, after all these years of being cute and amusing, I might want to tackle something that would get some R-E-S-P-E-C-T, as Ms. Franklin put it. (It bothers my daughter that she also insists she is "taking care of TCB," as that means Aretha is "taking care of taking care of business." The redundancy annoys Eve. We raised that girl right.)

Am I at that crossroads in my career? Do I crave the respect of the literary world more than a few cheap laughs in a tawdry (I've been waiting for years to use the word "tawdry") mystery novel? Is it time to dig deep into my psyche and pull out some dark, potentially depressing insight in an effort to be seen as "important" by critics?

Nah.

My role in the literary world, minor though it is, is the right one for me. I get more joy out of a reader sending an email about a joke in my book than I would out of the National Book Award, which I have a zero percent chance of ever getting no matter what I write (you can ask Nate Silver, and he'll say, "Who?"). I think the world needs more silly people, not fewer. I've read the "important" books. Largely, they are boring. Yeah, I know. I'm a Philistine. 

So whatever it is I decide to tackle next (that is not a football reference, as I do not follow football--my sports year ends Sunday), you can count on one thing: It will try to make you laugh. Whether or not it succeeds will depend on who you are and how well I do my job. And maybe there will be some other emotions at play in the story as well, but it will definitely not be completely serious. I don't do that, and I have no intention of starting now.

Who am I, anyway? Jerry Lewis?

Signs That You Aren't Funny

Jeff Cohen

I have often, in this space and elsewhere, urged those who are not funny to avoid trying to write comedy. This is not stated from a superior point of view, in that I am actually quite incapable of writing an entire story that is serious. I understand the impulse to do the other, but I'm here to warn the humor-impaired off the impulse. It won't be good for you and it won't be good for anyone else.

But the question that might arise from that statement is clear: How can I be sure I'm not funny? It's a reasonable query and one that should be addressed seriously. Alas, if you read that previous paragraph, you know I'm not the man for the job if those are the criteria.

So let's consider it: You think you might not be funny, and that's a problem because you'd like to write a funny story. How can you be certain? Maybe you're hilarious and you don't know it. Or, conversely, it's possible you are the least funny person on the planet but you believe yourself to be the reincarnation of Groucho Marx. Either way, you need a little guidance, and I'm here to help.

Signs You Aren't Funny

• You say something in the spirit of humor and nothing happens. Crickets chirp. People look uncomfortable. If anyone's still wearing a wristwatch, s/he looks at it. This is a clear signal. Think of writing a tragedy. You're suited to it.
• Someone asks you how you're doing and your impulse is to respond, "As well as Donald Trump." Now you haven't just not said something funny, you have waded into a political statement and worse, nobody knows what you mean. The only thing you've demonstrated is an ability to annoy people on both sides of the aisle. Think about becoming a speech writer. For Donald Trump.
• You say something you think is hilarious and people take you seriously. "Lou Gehrig died of Lou Gehrig's disease," you say. "What are the odds?" Your friend explains patiently that the condition is called ALS and it just took on the name of the famous Yankee AFTER he passed away from it and... Never mind. You're not funny.
• You, a rabbi, a priest and a minister walk into a bar and nobody thinks that's at all amusing. 
• Your favorite comedian of all time is Señor Wences.
• Your idea of a riotous comedy film is something directed by Ingmar Bergman.
• You wish W.C. Fields had just gone to an AA meeting. Just one. That poor man.
• You try to charm a woman you just met with your wit and find out from a friend later that she was listening to a hockey game in one ear.
• You think Seth Rogen should option Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis as a starring vehicle for himself. Wait. That's not a bad idea. Scratch that. Forget I said anything. Get me Seth Rogen's phone number.
• Someone asks who your favorite Marx Brother is and you answer, seriously, "Karl."
• Worse, "Gummo."
• Your idea of a gag present is a Target gift card.
• You walk into a party ready to slay them all with your ready wit and before you can speak everybody asks, "What's wrong?"

I hope this has proven to be the public service for which it was intended. Meanwhile, keep in mind that THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND isn't just out there buying itself. Same is true of WRITTEN OFF. And I'm just getting ready for SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL. Stay tuned.

28 Days and Counting

Jeff Cohen

It's been almost a month since I finished the first draft on a book that won't be out for another year, and we'll discuss that then. The key here is that I haven't been working on a new manuscript for 28 days. 

My family is becoming concerned.

I'm not the same person when I'm not writing. I'm more anxious, more edgy, less fun to hang around with. I don't have that evolving story to occupy my mind and so I think about other things that are less productive, like the presidential election (yikes!) or my usual neuroses (you don't want to know). It's not pleasant for anybody.

When I'm not writing I do crossword puzzles (when I'm not working on newspaper articles or teaching) more than I should. I can be found on Twitter and Facebook far too often. I nap during the day so I can't sleep at night. My usual aid to help me sleep--thinking about the story I'm writing--doesn't really come into play so much.

And already I can hear you say, "But Jeff, the solution is so easy--just start writing something!" If I weren't in such a cranky mood because I'm not writing I would certainly see the merit in your argument, but it ain't that simple. Right at the moment, I'm not under contract to do much of anything and the ideas I have for standalone novels are, let's say, not inspiring me a huge amount.

I started one novel and am currently, after weeks of work, on p. 11. Usually by this point I should be closing in on the 100 page point if you're keeping score at home. It's just not grabbing me. And if I'm not interested, expecting readers to eventually find this little tome enchanting is somewhat more optimistic than typically describes my nature. I'll get back to it, as soon as I run out of excuses not to. When I go to the gym rather than work on a story I'm writing, well, I really hate going to the gym.

I'm looking for sweet inspiration every morning, noon and night/but these days it just keeps on passing me by.--Gerry Rafferty, "A Dangerous Age

When I'm not writing I tend to obsess on what I laughingly refer to as "my career." I focus on minutiae and worry about the future months--sometimes years--before any development can reasonably be expected. I bother those involved (right, Josh?) when there's no need to and then instantly regret it. I concern myself with making up for the expected destitution I will no doubt experience because nobody's ever going to give me money to write anything again, and I don't know how to do anything else.

It's not a fun time, is what I'm saying. 

This is not a plea for help, I promise. I'll get bitten by the bug of some story idea sooner or later--hopefully sooner--and that will set the wheels rolling once more. But right now it seems like a better idea to check the Amazon sales ranking numbers (the only ones I have available to me) on THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND. Or pre-orders of SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL. Or GHOST IN THE WIND. Or WRITTEN OFF. 

So you see, it is possible to fill the day. I can try to learn the chords to the Beatles' Because again. Or perfect my rendition of Broken by Circe Link. Not for any particular reason, but because the guitar is five feet from my right hand and that seems much easier than anything else. I'd work on my golf swing but I've never actually played golf in my life and this doesn't seem like the time to start. 

Time between books. It's happening to a writer you know almost every day. And it makes us crazy. More crazy. Crazier than usual.

Now Available!

Here's Why I Hate Rain Man

Jeff Cohen

I'll start this by saying that the third Asperger's mystery novel, THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND, will be officially published on Thursday, September 8. That's one day after my brother Charlie's birthday, which is entirely unrelated to the book or anything I'll be posting about today. Happy birthday, Charlie.

Of course I'd love it if you purchase a copy of said book on the day it's published, if for no other reason than the fact that publishers look at numbers right after the book comes out and make predictions about total sales, which affects the possibility that future contracts will be drawn necessitating further books in the series. So there's that.

But this installment in the series (and you don't have to start at the beginning, but you can) is a little different, and the reason for that is that I hate Rain Man.

When the Tom Cruise/Dustin Hoffman movie about a slick Hollywood Yuppie (you could say that then) who finds out he has an autistic older brother was released in December 1988, my wife was pregnant with our son Joshua, although we didn't know him yet. I thought it was a pretty good movie that was somewhat predictable, that Hoffman and Cruise were both very good and that it would win a bunch of awards and people would talk about the "courage" necessary to make it, both of which turned out to be true.

And then I didn't think much of it until sometime in 1994.

It took a while for Josh to be diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, a high-functioning (and even that term is demeaning) disorder (see previous parenthetical statement) on the autism spectrum. He was about six years old when we finally got that official diagnosis after the first psychologist we met told us our son was "eccentric." I had told him we weren't wealthy enough to be eccentric and that Josh therefore needed to be talked down to neurotic, and the doctor clearly believed he had found the genetic link he'd been looking for.

But it wasn't until he was starting kindergarten that we started dealing with other parents on a regular basis, and at various points Josh's Asperger's, which was not a well-known term at the time, would be brought up in conversation. And since nobody had heard of Asperger's, the term "autism" would invariably be mentioned, and that's when you'd hear it.

"Like Rain Man, right?" they'd say with a knowing nod.

Well, actually, no. Josh isn't a bit like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. He doesn't dress in the same clothes every day, he is not a "savant" who can tell you how to win at blackjack or how many matches have fallen out of the matchbox, he does not fly into a rage if he misses a particular television show (although that might have more to do with TiVo), he does make eye contact now and again, he is charming and conversant and it has never once been suggested that he be institutionalized because he poses a threat to the safety of his younger sibling, because he never has.

Are there people with autism who are like the character Raymond in Rain Man? Sure there are. Are all people with autism like the character? Good lord, no. And that's the problem.

The general public hears autism and they picture Hoffman in that movie. The more literate think they know what autism is because they read or saw The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, which I know many very smart people loved a lot. 

When I created the character of Samuel Hoenig for the Asperger's mystery series (which I was calling the Questions Answered series, but that was then and this is now), I was keenly aware of the danger and the responsibility involved in presenting a fictional character with a disorder on the autism spectrum. What I feared--although I knew my audience would not be anywhere near that of Rain Man or Curious Incident-- was that people with little knowledge of the spectrum would read a book from Samuel's point of view and say, "Now I know what autism is like."

Well, there's a reason it's called a "spectrum." Because the condition affects so many people and affects each in a singular, unique way, it is dangerous to suggest that one depiction, or even five, cover the range of what it entails. The last thing I wanted to do was create a character whose depiction by extension excluded the vast majority of those who would be defined as he was defined.

So that brings us to THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND (you thought I'd forgotten?). It has always been my intention to write a novel in which Samuel encounters a number of other people diagnosed with some form of autism so I could depict it as being more than one thing. I believe the first book in a series should engage the reader (they all should) and set up the premise for the series as a TV pilot episode does. The second should reinforce what the first did and settle the main characters' relationships so the reader knows what to expect. That way you can do what they DON'T expect at any time for the rest of the series.

The third book, in my opinion, is where the characters become whole. It's where you can write about them and not the mystery of the week (year). And in this case, it was where I could illustrate a very small section of the autism spectrum. 

In THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND, Samuel's client (Samuel runs a business called Questions Answered, which does just that) is a young man diagnosed with autism. Because he is aware of his condition and his personal issues with it, Tyler Clayton can't trust that a guy he knows from the convenience store, Richard Handy, is really a friend. He asks Samuel to confirm that fact.

During the course of his research, much happens that complicates Samuel's work, like Richard Handy being shot to death and Tyler being arrested for the crime. But it will also bring Samuel into contact with a number of other people diagnosed with autism, and hopefully the reader will notice that each one acts differently from the others. That's what this book is about for me.

You might find it's about something different for you. Because even the neurotypical are not all the same. 

 

P.S. Yes, today is Labor Day in the U.S., but hey, I have a book coming out on Thursday. If you want to read my comments on the holiday, please see what I said this time last year.

Gene Wilder. Hero.

Jeff Cohen

I don't often post twice in a week, but I lost a friend yesterday, a friend I never met and never spoke to. Many of you might feel the same way.

Gene Wilder was a true hero of mine. I don't have many. There are people whose work I admire greatly and people who I might try to emulate under select circumstances, but not many heroes. I define a "hero" as a person who does something so extraordinarily well, and who lives by all credible accounts an admirable, respectable life, that I look up to that person as a model. I never try to be anyone  other than myself, but sometimes we all need an ideal to which we can aspire.

For me, one of those people was Gene Wilder. I never actually met the man, although we were in the same room twice. When I was the arts editor of the Rutgers Daily Targum back in the Middle Ages, I made sure to attend a screening of Wilder's film The World's Greatest Lover, a movie he wrote, directed and starred in. Wilder was going to be there, and I wasn't going to miss it.

He came out after the film--which isn't great but isn't bad--had shown and answered questions. I might even have asked one. I honestly don't remember. I do remember having a feeling I occasionally have when confronted with someone whose work I believe truly stands alone--that I don't want to ask a stupid question and sound like a fawning idiot. I guess I didn't do that, because I'd definitely remember.

Wilder himself was charming and personable. He didn't treat college reviewers as the minor league team. He considered each question, gave credit to others--I especially remember him pointing out Harry Nilsson's song for the film--and no doubt suffered some fools patiently.

Many years later, my wife and I attended a session at the 92nd St. Y in New York City when Wilder, who had pretty much retired from acting and rarely spoke publicly, had agreed to be interviewed in depth by Wendy Wasserstein. He was gracious and shy, took a while to warm up to the idea of entertaining an audience, but eventually ended by explaining the origins of the theater expression "break a leg" and how it has been misunderstood for decades. Questions from the audience could be submitted on paper. Mine, regarding his performance in a not-great movie in which he gave a great performance, was not selected.

Like almost everyone else, my real experiences of Gene Wilder were from his astonishingly good screen work. His acting in classic comedies--The Producers, Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, among many others--was extraordinary among comic actors. Wilder never played the joke. He always played the character. There were no winks to the camera. There was no false move. There would never be a moment that didn't feel real, even in the most outlandish circumstances.

When The Producers was done as a Broadway musical in 2001, it was a work of genius and a phenomenon that can only be compared today to Hamilton, the only other musical to win almost as many Tony Awards. And everything about the show was wonderful, but on our way out of the theater, I said to my wife, "I loved it, but there's just one thing." 

She looked at me. "No Gene Wilder," she said.

Matthew Broderick, who took over the role of Leo Bloom a mere 34 years after Wilder had done it on film, played the part well. But he played it as a timid nerd and nothing else. Wilder played it with so much emotion and so much heart that the viewer could extrapolate a complete backstory for the character. We knew how he'd been treated in grade school. We felt the cold shoulders of the women who had repeatedly rejected him over the years. We knew the beating heart of the beautiful butterfly inside that bland caterpillar. 

Many people will now remember Gene Wilder--justifiably--as Willy Wonka in the first, real film made from Roald Dahl's novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. That's not my favorite Wilder film but it is a staggeringly great performance. A man who could be seen as heartless and cruel comes across as impish and good-humored because the man playing him had such enormous humanity.

In his last years Wilder took to writing books, and while it wasn't his best work, his writing showed more areas of his soul that had gone unexplored in many of his movies. He appeared--I can't know the real man--to have been a man intrigued by human behavior who wished that everyone would just treat each other better.

There are few things a person deposited on this planet can do for his fellow Earthlings nobler than to provide others with a laugh, a smile, a warm feeling. I can't think of anyone who ever did that more than Gene Wilder.

He was one of a kind. We will not see his like again, but luckily we can still see him whenever we choose to do so. That is a great gift. He was a great gift. If that's not a friend, I don't know what is.

Rest in peace, my friend. You are already being sorely missed.

All One Voice--Mark Boyett

Jeff Cohen

 

So. THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND, the third in my collaborative (with E.J. Copperman) Asperger's mystery series, will be published one week from Thursday, on Sept. 8. And if you thought I wouldn't be posting about it this week and next, you're adorable.

 

It's become a semi-tradition to post an interview with the incredibly talented actors who have lent their voices and their gifts to the creation of audiobooks from the Aaron Tucker series, the Haunted Guesthouse series and now the Asperger's series. Amanda Ronconi, who performs the Guesthouse books, does the same for the Mysterious Detective series, which debuted just a couple of months ago with WRITTEN OFF, and she is amazing, as are all these wonderful performers.

 

Mark Boyett, the actor who becomes Samuel Hoenig (and everyone else) in the Asperger's mysteries, is a very busy man. Besides narrating many audiobooks, he is a working actor on stage and in film and television. So it took a while for us to find the time for an interview, but I think you'll find it was worth the wait: 

 

Jeff Cohen: How do you approach a new book to perform? What’s your process and what do you know about it when you get the script for the first time?

 

MB: Unless it's a book from a series that I'm already doing, I don't know anything about the script before I get it. The casting is usually done by the audiobook producer (Audible Studios, in the case of The Aspergers Mystery Series) and if they decide on me for the job, that's the first I see of the script. 

 

I prep the book by reading it very carefully, paying attention to who the characters are, marking each with a particular color (I used to use colored markers on a paper script, but these days it's all done on the iPad with an app called iAnnotate. It's awesome. I love it. And I don't get colored marker stains on my shirts and sheets anymore since I usually prep in bed in the morning with coffee.) Since it often isn't revealed who is speaking a particular line until after the line's been spoken, these color-coded dots in the left margin become very useful in the studio.  I also make notes about the characters when they first appear -- male/female, old/young etc. Sometimes I'll have to go back and add to the notes if it's revealed later in the book that the character is from a particular place or has a particular character trait like always being nervous or some such.

 

During the prep phase I also look up pronunciations of any words or locations I may be unsure about.

 

And I'll score the script in little ways that would only make sense to me. Little cues that I'll use in the studio to know, for example, to keep the pace up during this part, or slow it down a bit here.  But I try not to over score it so that I don't get distracted during the actual recording by how I thought it should be done while I was prepping. I think there's great value in trusting the story and my instincts during the actual performing, and being in the moment, living the story as much as possible. Informed, of course, by my having read the book beforehand.

 

JC: How do you develop a voice for the narrator (Samuel Hoenig) and then the other characters? 

 

MB: I take any clues from the script that are available about where the character is from and what kind of person they are and just kind of keep those things in mind when I'm in the studio. I don't plan the voices out in advance, I let them come to me in the moment. With the exception of dialect particularities that may be necessary to practice a bit. In that case, if the character has a dialect that I don't come across very often or is one that I don't do very well naturally, I'll get online and click around a lot to find samples and I'll work on that as extensively as necessary to feel relaxed about doing it in once I'm in the studio.

 

JC: Do you have to refer back to old recordings when a new book comes in to remember how you voiced a character in previous books?

 

MB: Yep. For sure. In every series I do, unless we're on book 11 or something where I've done the voices in multiple books already, I always go back and listen to the voices in the previous book.

 

JC: How much more difficult is it to voice female characters? Should I be careful about writing them in the future?

 

MB: It took me a few books to figure out female voices. I think the trick is not to go overboard with making them sound like actual females. Because at the end of the day, it's just me narrating the whole book and I'm a guy, so I'm kind gonna always sound like a guy. That said, if the voice is just lightened bit and pitched a little bit higher, that does the trick generally.  My first few books I was pitching the female voices way too high and someone commented in the comment section at Audible.com and said as much and I was like "Yea, that's a good point. I am pitching them way too high." So I stopped that. 

 

As for you being careful in some way while you're writing female characters... No. I think the author's job is just to write what he/she sees or imagines. It's the narrators job to run with whatever that is. 

 

JC: Do you read the whole book before starting, or do you approach it in sections?

 

MB: I always read the whole book before I start recording. It helps me tell the story if I know where it's going. And also, tying back into character voices, there was a book I did early on in which it wasn't mentioned until late in the book that this one character was from Minnesota. Well, she was speaking from chapter one on, so I'm glad I knew when I started recording that she needed a Fargo-y accent. So I learned early to read the whole book before day one in the studio.

 

JC: What’s the recording process like? What do you do in a typical day?

 

MB: I mostly work with an engineer. So he or she sits in one half of the studio. And I sit in the other half. And there's a window between us.  And we start to to read the book together. I'm reading aloud, of course. And the engineer is following along to help make sure I don't misread anything, while simultaneously pushing the appropriate recording buttons. If I mess up or need to go back for an interpretive reason and re-do a sentence or a word or whatever, the engineer stops recording and rolls the sound back a few seconds and I hear a bit in my headphones and pick up the narrating wherever the audio stops. If that makes sense. We do that for typically 4 to 6 hours straight. And a typical book will take about 5 days at that pace.  The standard is that it takes about 2 hours of studio time for every hour of audio.

 

JC: You’re also a stage, film and television actor. Aside from the obvious, is there a difference to the process of creating a character for an audiobook?

 

MB: It's very different. It happens much more on the fly with an audiobook. In theater and even in film/ TV there's rehearsal, sometimes a lot of it. And also because in those mediums I'd be only playing one character, I'm typically only interested in that one character's perspective and inner life.  With a book I take on everyone's point of view. 

 

JC: While the Asperger’s books are not written from the perspective of someone who wants to be funny, Samuel’s stories should hopefully have some laughs in them. How are you cognizant of that in the performance, and how do you approach comedy as opposed to something more dramatic?

 

MB: There are definitely some laughs in the Asperger's books!  I think maybe even quite a few. I love the humor in the books.  And I think it comes exactly from Samuel not meaning to be funny. For those parts and for his character in general I just try to keep a very literal interpretation of things in mind. It's just a matter of aiming to be true to who he is and maybe somewhere in the back of my mind knowing that it's meant to be funny. Of course there are also parts where his internal experience is not comedic, far from it. It can be quite moving at times to live his panic and anxiety with him in some parts, for example. 

 

 

JC: Because Samuel does have Asperger’s, which he considers simply an aspect of his personality, did you have to do any research before starting THE QUESTION OF THE MISSING HEAD?

 

MB: Not specifically, no. But I did draw on my own understanding of how Asperger's can manifest. I have a godson "on the spectrum" and because of him I've become very interested in the subject and often perk up at the various PBS docs and stories that show up on NPR about folks with Asperger's.

 

Sincere thanks to Mark Boyett for taking the time! If you want to hear him perform the previous Asperger's mysteries THE QUESTION OF THE MISSING HEAD and THE QUESTION OF THE UNFAMILIAR HUSBAND, take a listen here!

Questions? We've Got Answers!

Jeff Cohen

First: I am very sorry to note that last Thursday marked the final airing for The Nightly Show with Larry Wilmore. Having inherited the time slot of a phenomenon it was unfair of Comedy Central to believe the ratings would be maintained, particularly after another phenomenon left The Daily Show leading into this program. But I'm glad I got to know Mike Yard, Grace Parra,Holly Walker, Robin Thede and Jordan Carlos and saw some of the wonderful work they could do. Mr. Wilmore, don't let anyone tell you your show wasn't good enough. If this year has taught us anything, it is that quality is rarely the defining factor in popularity contests.

On to business: This week I opened the discussion to those on Twitter and Facebook this week to see if there were questions readers/visitors/total strangers might have for the author (that's me). There were no rules posted. So I should have known what to expect.

A quick word: I'll be updating throughout the day, so if you want to add a question, feel free to comment below and I'll get to it sooner rather than later.

Keep in mind that the opinions expressed here are those of the author and not people who aren't the author. Because that would be silly. So with the upcoming release of THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND  now only a few (2) weeks away, let's begin there.  

Jack Getze: Do you and E.J. do things together--besides writing books, I mean?

What are you implying, Jack? Must E.J. and I have our seconds contact you? (I've been listening to the Hamilton cast album too much.)

Arlene Cassidy: What's the best opening line ever?

It used to be "come here often?" but now I believe it's something on the order of, "I saw your profile and just couldn't resist."

(Actually it's probably, "Call me Ishmael." Everybody knows that one. Best one I ever wrote is likely, "The guy in Row S, Seat 18 was dead, all right.")

Bill Davis: How many times have you considered bumping off Elliot?

I assume Bill refers to Elliot Freed, protagonist of the Comedy Tonight (Double Feature) mystery series. I never considered bumping off Elliot, Bill. For one thing, he narrates the books, so that would leave a lot of empty pages. (Elliot fans: There is news forthcoming. No, not a new book, but news. I'll tell you when I can.)

Jack Getze (who apparently can't get enough): How do you keep track of all the characters in your several series? Any charts or special files?

I actually keep a "Bible" file on the Asperger's, Mysterious Detective and Agent to the Paws series because I tend to lose track of details like number of siblings and type of car the character drives. I never had to do that when I was writing just one or two series.

Ken Cohen (no relation--he's my cousin): How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?

Six.

John R. Rymer: Why is Trump still here?

Where?

Robert Walker: What is the cosmic explanation for how Jeff Cohen came into being?

I could ask my mother but that would probably lead to some very uncomfortable images in my head and who needs that?

Dawn: How do you write such spectacular dialogue? When I write, dialogue always feels painful and stilted, to the point where I feel like I must have a bit of Aspergers because I don't know how to have a normal conversation!

Thanks for the lovely compliment! For me dialogue is the best part of writing. I just come up with a first line and then let my characters have a conversation. The better you know your characters, the more effortless and realistic the dialogue will seem. (I say "seem" because it's never effortless!) I write as much dialogue as I want and then cut out the parts I don't need. 

Becoming An Olympian Writer

Jeff Cohen

I'll confess I haven't been watching a ton of the current Olympic Games, particularly since my daughter left for a weeklong trip to Oregon. She's the one with a real interest. It's not that I don't find the competition worth attention. It's that there's only so much beach volleyball you can watch before coming to the conclusion that there's a reason they wear bikinis, and it's not athletic. (Same is true of men's swimming and diving, by the way, minus the bikini tops.)

Nonetheless, from the broadcasts I have watched it's clear the coverage of the Games is devoted to our understanding of the hard work each champion undergoes to reach his or her goal. Obviously, there is a tremendous amount of training necessary to becoming an athlete worthy of competition in the Olympics, and we are invited to join along via the ever-present video camera every step of the way. The message here is clear, and it's a similar one to that we are fed in many movies, television shows and, yes, books: Hard work and determination will overcome any disadvantage and lead one to glory.

Well, I'm here to tell you it ain't like that really.

I don't know, well, anything about being a fantastic athlete. I could play a little second base when I was 15 and even then would have been easily outmatched by anyone with real talent. And maybe that's the point. Because I played most days and worked very hard on improving. I have been playing acoustic guitar for, no kidding, 45 years. And yes, I've gotten better and I have practiced many hours. I have worked very hard and been quite determined. 

I am not yet at the Jimi Hendrix level. I'm not holding my breath.

The fact is, hard work and determination will help--but you have to be born with some talent to begin with. If not, you're just going to get better at not being as good as those who do have the genetically communicated ability. That's just how it is. 

I was born with some facility for language and communication. I can write, and I always could. So I've been doing that professionally for a now-impressive number of years. I have put in the work and I have practiced and studied and worked very hard for many hours. And I have indeed gotten better, thank goodness. I know a lot more about storytelling, character development, dialogue and the work of writing than I did when I started writing my first (dreadful) screenplay at the age of 20. 

But if I did not have that initial talent, would I be able to make my living doing this today? I argue I would not. I'd have found another line of work more suited to the abilities I did have under those circumstances, which could have been pretty much anything. 

I do some teaching at the college level, and my students are always required to do a good deal of writing. Some of them are endowed with the ability to manipulate words in an entertaining and perhaps enlightening fashion. Most can just communicate thoughts through words. There's no shame in that. Some people play in bar bands. Some people gave up the guitar after college because they no longer needed to meet girls. Only one person is Paul McCartney. 

I grade all my students by the same standard, and that is what they do with the talent they possess walking into the first class. I don't penalize people for not having the skill of an Olympic athlete. If you can play pickup basketball and do okay, the key is what you do with the knowledge you're being given. Does it make you a better pickup basketball player? Great. If you pay attention and apply what you learn, you'll get a good grade. I don't expect every student to become a successful professional writer because they're not all born with that talent. They have others. That's fine.

So if you're an aspiring writer, stop being that. You're either a writer or you're not. It's something that's part of you. Everyone can learn to be a better writer. No one can learn to be a writer. Being published doesn't make you a writer. It makes you a published writer. That's great; it's reason for celebration. 

Just forget the myth that determination and grueling practice can turn you into something you're not. If it's not inside you, something else is. Chase that.

There is something legitimately, verifiably inspiring about watching Olympic athletes like the USA women's gymnastic team. There is a genuine uplift for all of us in seeing them do things we could never dream of doing. But the lesson to take away from it is not that if you work hard enough, you can be a gymnastics champion. The lesson is to take what you are given, what makes you undeniably you, and run with that. Because you already have that within you. 

I Admit It. I'm Good at Some Stuff.

Jeff Cohen

I can't believe I'm writing this post.

Those who love me and a few who just like me a little have expressed the thought--a large number of times--that I have a habit so infuriating it distracts from my better qualities. And while I understand their point, I have always been less than enthusiastic about doing anything that might attempt to refute it.

They say I am self-deprecating to the point of exasperation.

Keep in mind that I was brought up to be modest at all costs. Bragging in my family was just distasteful and coarse. Let others think you're a good person and always strive to project the impression that you're simply trying to live life as everyone does. Or should. Or something. I was never really clear on that last part, but the fact was that anytime one celebrated an accomplishment or pointed out a positive character trait about oneself, it was considered in bad taste. It was fine for others to tell you that you were wonderful (as our parents and a few others did, in my opinion, too much) but never, ever think of doing so yourself.

Also, I grew up (sort of) as a short male. In this country that is a sin almost as egregious as enjoying soccer. Sorry. Futbol. In order to avoid getting beaten up on a regular basis in school, it was necessary to develop a self-deprecating sense of humor. Beat the other person to the insult. It actually works pretty well.

But then there are my family and friends saying I'm overindulging in the jokes directed at myself. That's something worth considering, as I really like my family and friends a lot and value their opinion. So grudgingly, painfully, against my every better instinct, I offer the following list, after which I sincerely promise nothing of the sort will ever happen again.

Things I Am Good At

1. I turned into a really good dad. It was rocky there for a while because I have a temper and little kids can get under your skin like no one else, but as it happens, I'm a terrific parent. I treat my children (and always have) like the interesting individuals they are. I value their opinions and offer my own. I guide without insisting. I have always tried very hard not to say, "because I said so." As a result, and that of them have an exemplary mom and being themselves, they have become really good adults. I had a hand in doing that.
2. I can write really good dialogue. My plots aren't always airtight and sometimes they're not even plausible, but if you read one and like it, you'll come back for the conversations. I have the ear, which a lot of writers don't, and I use it every chance I get.
3. I'm a good friend. If you need me, I'm there. If you want advice, I'll give it. If you don't, I'll listen. I'm so thrilled you chose to like me I'll pretty much back you up on anything you need.
4. You'll never find a better husband. I spent 28 years looking for my wife, largely because she insisted on living in other states until I was that age. If the woman had stood still a little while it might have been easier. But since we met I have been her most fervent booster, her ardent devotee and her greatest admirer. I sometimes wish she would let herself need me more. 
5. I'm a very smart baseball fan. You and I might not agree on the team to root for and that's okay. I understand the game, after watching for 50 years or so, extremely well. I get how the strategy works, I know when a pitcher is having a good day right away and I admire players for doing things right and not just doing them a lot. I won't trash talk when my team beats yours and I understand why you don't root for mine. But it'll be hard--although hardly impossible--to get the game more than I do.
6. You like my dialogue? My characters are better. You'll never find a two-dimensional person in my work. I try to think of and for my characters as fully fleshed humans, and they will be interesting even when they're not necessarily admirable. There are no "villains" in my books. Because villains don't think they're villains.
7. I can always see the other side of the argument. Don't confuse that with agreeing every time someone disagrees. I understand that those with whom I sometimes argue (politically this year especially and in general on any topic all the time) have valid points of view. I get that most people are not idiots, and I spend very little time dealing with the ones who are. I'll hear you out. I will still disagree with you and have a hard time believing you weren't swayed by my cogent points, but I will hear you out.
8. You want to sit behind me at the movies. I'll never talk. I'll unwrap any candy before the trailers begin. I try not to fidget in my seat much, but I'm old and some things can't he helped. I will never open my cell phone in a theater. And neither will either of my children (see pt. #1).
9. I have narrow but good taste in music. I will not say that I'm good at playing music myself because I am at best an okay amateur. That's at best, and I mean it literally. (I also understand what "literally" means, but that's not worth a whole listing.) I can hear the things being done with instruments that some will miss and I get why the songwriter chose that word and not another. I'm a very well-educated fan.
10. I can walk away from a car salesman. My wife loves to point out that I will not be bullied into buying one vehicle or another. If I feel like I'm getting played I'll get up and leave. This is true in virtually any retail environment. I grew up in retail and I know the tricks. If you're buying something big, bring me along. 
11. I write good titles. They're not always the ones on the completed book, mind you, because the publishing business is a business. But I don't just slap a name on the thing and forget about it. I try to come up with titles that have some relevance to the story and hopefully amuse at least a little.
12. Eventually, I'll make you laugh. I have taken on as my mission in life getting everyone I ever meet to laugh. I'm pretty good at it when I'm not trying to hard, but if it doesn't work the first time, I'll keep at it until I succeed. I have a quick wit and I'm always looking for an opening. You have been warned.

Okay, that's all I can think of. May I please stop now?

You're Stealing. Stop It.

Jeff Cohen

There are a multitude of disturbing trends in today's society. One of them is running for president, but that's not the point here. The bottom line is, it's virtually impossible, no matter what one's point of view might be, to watch the news, read the news or download the damn news without being upset (often horrified) about what you see.

And the political or global issues are not the only sources of outrage and anxiety, not by a long shot. There are some wonderful things about the current version of the modern age, and I'd list them here but right at the moment I'm having a hard time remembering what they are. Trust me, I know they exist. I'll think of them tomorrow.

What concerns me at the moment that won't upset people whose ideologies are not in line with my own? The decline of simple rules of grammar, punctuation, usage and syntax, to begin with. I teach people at the college level who can't tell the difference between you're and your. I see posts and documents indicating that even those who have completed advanced degrees don't bother to use apostrophes properly. You'd be amazed how many people think the sentence, "Lots of woman do the same thing" is perfectly acceptable.

And then there is the odd sense of entitlement among those--and I do not limit this to millennials and young people, as I have seen done--who believe that entertainment is a right. These are individuals with working brains who don't see the problem in downloading music off "free" sites, who will buy bootleg copies of movies before they are released to DVD, who steal a cable TV signal and believe they are somehow completing a victory over "the system."

Well, I'm "the system." Nice to meet you.

There are any number of online sites that right now, today, will let you read books that I spent months writing and to which I own the copyrights and they will not charge you for those books because they themselves did not pay for them. The site might charge visitors a fee as a "subscription," but trust me, when they send you the file with my name (or my other name) on it and you read the book, I am receiving a grand total of nothing for it.

The idea that somehow this is a victimless crime, that no one is losing out when you "beat the system" by getting free entertainment, is crap. I hear the argument all the time that there's no harm in a bootleg download of a movie because "Tom Cruise already has enough money." Maybe so, but guess what--the key grip doesn't. The Foley artist needs a salary, and if revenues go down, she won't get any. The guy who cleans the recording studio isn't getting paid when the artist can no longer afford to book the place because nobody is paying for the art.

I have close friends and relatives who see no harm in finding "free" entertainment. They seem to feel they're being clever, winning a victory over a corrupt system. I see them stealing. Period. 

Right now, I am contracted to write four separate mystery series which some of you read and hopefully enjoy. If sales don't hit the right numbers--and no, I have no clue what those numbers might be because the publishing industry changes its standards about every 20 minutes--I will no longer be releasing any books at all. Because I need to make a living and pay the bills. This is true of every author, every singer, every filmmaker, every producer, every actor, every screenwriter and all the people who serve the industries they inhabit. 

If you're taking copyrighted content from a source that doesn't compensate the creators of that content, you're stealing. Pure and simple. You're not being a Robin Hood outlaw. You're robbing from everybody and keeping everything. At most the only concerns you're keeping alive are the ones that steal from artists. 

I object.

This Kid Walks Into A Bank... And Almost Gets Arrested

Jeff Cohen

So much of the time as crime fiction writers we are working from a place of ignorance. I haven't murdered anyone and don't plan to, so any crime I depict is strictly the product of my twisted imagination. I'm not 100 percent sure I've done much that violates the criminal code other than speeding (just kidding, New Jersey State Police!), which is a Garden State common law tradition dating back to the Lenni Lenapis, who were rumored to run faster than other local tribes (I made that up, too).

My criminal record is squeaky clean. I've never actually used an illegal drug, although I did probably have some beers before I was legally able to drink alcohol at the age of 18 (back in the day that was the age). I just never found the idea interesting and didn't bother with it. I'm the kid in your class who never did any of the cool stuff at all because he either wasn't invited or didn't care. 

Writing about crime, then, is something of a stretch for me. Luckily for me as a writer, the type of work I do doesn't rely heavily on gritty reality and leans more towards the willing (one hopes) suspension of disbelief. If anything about crime or the way it is committed doesn't feel authentic to you, feel free to chalk that up to the author's inexperience.

As I said, my record is impeccable, other than the time I almost got arrested for robbing a bank.

Threatening, no?

Oh, did I forget to mention that? Sorry. It was so long ago it tends to slip one's mind. Yeah, there was this moment in my very early 20s when I was a suspect in robbing a bank. Well, plotting to rob a bank. That's closer to the fact. Plotting to rob a bank. Attempted bank robbery; would that be the charge? I leave it up to you:

I was just out of college and just starting work as a newspaper reporter, but still living "at home" (anywhere you live is "at home") with my parents until I could save up enough for a security deposit and one month's rent on an apartment. And keep in mind, this particular flat was rent-controlled and going, at that time, for a whopping $214 a month. Heady sums.

Part of that plan involved opening a new bank account at a local branch where I could drop my vast savings and start writing checks for my anticipated expenses. My family had moved while I was in college, so I was dealing in that age before ATMs with a new bank closer to home. I put on my college windbreaker, stuck my old checkbook (which was actually connected to my father's account) in a pocket and walked into the branch to open the account.

I was a little jittery, I guess; I was young and dealing with actual money, something I'd never really had before. I had not been given a "small loan of one million dollars" by my father to start my way in the world, so the numbers were not exactly eye-popping. But it was my money, and this was a step into adulthood, and here I was, talking to the nice young lady about giving the bank my funds in exchange for some absurdly low interest rate.

She smiled, in retrospect wanly, and said she'd be right back with the necessary paperwork. So I sat in the chair, hands in my jacket pockets (in case anyone asked for the checkbook in a hurry), and waited for her return.

It seemed to be taking a long time, but I had no frame of reference. After a while I saw two men in jackets and ties walk into the bank. They looked around and strode in with some kind of purpose. I figured they were important customers or something. They walked over to one of the bank managers and talked to her for a moment. 

Then they all turned and looked directly at me.

Before I could register that, the two men marched to the desk where I was sitting. One of them asked my name and told me he was with the local police. Would I mind--very carefully--producing some ID?

I found my wallet, no doubt hands shaking, and gave the man my driver's license. He asked if I would stand up, so I did. He instructed me to take my hands out of my pockets. I did that, too. 

I don't remember a lot of the rest of this, but what it came down to was that the young woman I'd been dealing with had decided that since I kept my hands in my jacket I must have been armed and intending to rob the bank by... giving them my money. That part isn't clear. The cops ran my ID, I think I might have given them my jacket to search, they found nothing but pens, and that was pretty much it.

Total and utter idiot that I was and am, I believe I even closed the deal to open the account. I guess I was impressed with the bank's security measures. 

Does the remembered fear of that encounter infuse my writing? I tend to doubt it. I think about that incident very infrequently. It was my only actual brush with the law, I had done a grand total of nothing wrong, and I was a white guy in America so there were no special consequences. No harm, no foul. I have led a life on the right side of the law before and since. 

I mean, it's not like I stole public property, or anything.

Part of the Problem? (Revised)

Jeff Cohen

Lately, more than usual, it has seemed impossible to escape the darker areas of society. One hideous, heart-wrenching event comes after the last hasn't had time to leave the news cycle. Violence seems to be erupting more often and more brutally everywhere. And the upcoming Presidential election in the U.S. is not anywhere near as funny as it used to be.

I'm not going to impose my politics on you, but to me the choice seems embarrassingly clear. And that's all I'll say.

People complain that there's "too much bad news." That's largely because bad things tend to happen and they are reported upon. If you want more good news, get out there and make some. 

For a crime fiction writer, there's a debilitating effect from all the sadness, rage and carnage in the streets. You start to wonder if what you're doing is actually contributing to the societal mayhem.

Particularly in my end of the pool, where the murder in the mystery is meant to be "fun," a moral question arises: Am I desensitizing a (very small) segment of the population to the horror of violence? Does my insistence on writing entertainment that revolves around the ultimate personal crime mean I'm adding to the problem instead of working to reduce it?

That's probably an example of a writer assuming more importance and influence than he's entitled to feel. The 8,820 people who have, to this date, bought GHOST IN THE WIND (oh yes, I get to check the numbers) have, I'm willing to wager, not killed anyone since buying and (hopefully) reading it. I don't think the cause-and-effect idea is that literal. But it does make one wonder whether the cumulative effect is more subtle, but just as insidious.

Writers are just like everyone else. Wait. Writers are a lot like everyone else. Okay, writers are the same species as everyone else and that means we do see the news and we are affected emotionally as is the bulk of the population. How can you view people being shot, assaulted, blown up and run over and not feel anything? So when it comes the part of the day when it's necessary to sit down and concoct tales of shootings, stabbings, poisonings and assorted mayhem, is it possible to disconnect and simply serve the story?

Sadly, yes. I write that 1,000 words every day no matter what the news has been personally or around the world. I wrote the day my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and the day we found out it was Stage 1 and she'd be fine after treatment. I wrote the day my dog died. I wrote the day doctors told me I had lymphoma (they were wrong). I've written in hospital waiting rooms, mechanics' waiting rooms, on airplanes, in hotel rooms, from sickbeds and trains. I have written at conventions like Bouchercon and Malice Domestic. I have written while tending to sick children, on the day I moved each of them into and out of college dorms. 

I wrote on 9/11.

I'm not proud of all those facts, but I'm a writer. It's my job and it's what I do. But does what I'm writing help, hurt or have no effect whatsoever?

For the record, I've decided the answer is no. I respect my readers enough to assume they know the difference between reality and the fiction I pull out of my twisted brain. As for the tone the stories take, it's true that I try to make my readers laugh. Enough are buying the books that I can say with some certainty that I'm successful at least sometimes. Does that make the death and violence more "fun"? 

I don't write "funny" murders. I'm not looking for quirky methods of bumping off characters. The comedy, hopefully, comes in the reactions to the crime rather than the event itself. 

And I do not glamorize weapons. When a gun is pulled in one of my books it's seen as a scary, dangerous object. Because that is how I see guns. Your mileage may vary. 

So no, I don't think I'm damaging anyone's mind. Maybe that's a way to make myself feel better, but if so, it works. I rail against real violence; I decry the awful events that seem to permeate our news feeds on a daily, if not hourly, basis. I am not in favor of private citizens owning AR-15 assault rifles. That's me. My fiction is a character in a situation. Each one will react based on his/her personality. Yeah, they come from my mind, but they're not all me. I'll write characters I disagree with if it works for them.

The ultimate judgment, I have to say, probably rests with the reader. I've gotten emails from people who said they were helped by the diversion my book provided while they were going through a rough time. If I have written in hospitals, they have read my books in hospitals. I've heard from others who read the book at home while trying to deal with a new diagnosis of autism. Those, too, have been very touching to read, because people usually don't email an author if the book has had no impact on them at all. The ones who get in touch when they're angry usually just didn't like the book.

From my point of view, the writing will go on. It hasn't been a small consideration that over the past few weeks when things have seemed especially awful I've been working on a novel in which nobody gets killed. My first, and I'm happy about it. (Thanks, Terri!)

Do crime fiction novels (especially cozies) take violence to a place where it's unthreatening and "fun"? I leave that to sociologists and critics. If I felt that I was a bigger part of the problem than most, I would have to find another way to make a living, and this is the only thing I'm good at.

Here's my only piece of advice to anyone who's as horrified and upset as I am about what's been going on: Try to see the other person's side of the argument. Is that justification for violence? Absolutely not. But maybe if we understand WHY the person feels that way, we can start to work toward making fewer people feel that way. That's all I've got.

And don't vote for Trump. Sorry. It slipped out.

These Corpses Are Fictional

Jeff Cohen

I write mysteries--mostly murder mysteries--for a living. It's what I do, it's what I like to do and it's what I have become (in a small circle) known for. I've been doing that for over 16 years now. But I still haven't gotten used to the questions people ask when they find out this is my job. 

No, I'm not going off on the "so, are you still writing?" rant again. This is about something else.

With WRITTEN OFF, the latest of the E.J. Copperman titles to be published, I was thinking a little bit more about the writer's life because the character narrating the story is an author whose circumstances are a little like mine. But so far I haven't had anyone ask Rachel Goldman the question that most baffles me when I get it in conversation or at an author "event."

"Do you get revenge on people in your life by killing them off in books?"

So here's your answer: No.

I don't.

Seriously.

There appears to be some odd temptation among those who do what I do for a living to purge their anger and frustration by naming characters after people they don't like and then offing said characters in some especially ostentatious method. I guess that makes them feel better, and if so, more power to them. I never question another writer's method.

But I never do that. For one thing, there aren't that many people I'm angry with. Most of them are orange-colored Presidential nominees and other public figures and there's no fun in killing them off in books. Especially since I almost never set my mysteries anywhere but in suburban New Jersey and we don't get that much traffic in major party candidates here.

I just really don't get the impulse, to tell the truth. Killing off someone I don't like would require me to spend time mentally with that person while writing, which is the last thing I need. And I wouldn't get any satisfaction out of the practice. The next time I saw that person in real life it would just serve as a cruel reminder of my utter lack of power in the non-fictional world. I'd probably crawl into bed and stay there for a week, which would be a real inconvenience when the bed got made in the morning.

I don't often name characters after real people anyway. Again there's the problem of thinking about a real person when writing a fictional one, which means I can't make fun of the ones I like and I have to think about the ones I don't. There's no upside. I will occasionally name a character after a contest winner or something, but that's usually a person I've never actually met. Easier to do whatever the story requires under those circumstances.

In the interest of full disclosure, very early on I did fashion one murder victim after a guy I sort of knew in high school who had achieved some notoriety, if you want to call it that, in subsequent years. But I didn't really know the guy very well so I could mold him into exactly the kind of person I needed the character to be, and I gave him a completely different name for many reasons, some of which didn't involve the possibility of a nasty lawsuit. And now that I think of it, that character turned out not to be so dead late in the book, anyway. So I can stick to my statement: I haven't ever "killed off" a real person for symbolic revenge or any other reason.

When I was writing the first Aaron Tucker novel  For Whom the Minivan Rolls, I figured nobody would ever read--let alone publish--a book written almost entirely by accident by a first-time novelist who clearly had no idea what he was doing. So I gave the character some of my own circumstances and made up others. And no, I did not kill off anybody I had ever actually met.

But once Aaron had made his 17th comment about how lovely his wife Abby's legs were and a neighbor met my wife in the supermarket and called her Abby (thinking he was being amusing), I resolved never to get that close to home again. 

So do me a favor and don't ask me about my wife's legs, okay? It's fiction. All of it. 

For legal reasons. 

We Hold These Truths

Jeff Cohen

"We hold these truths to be self-evident: That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness..."

 

To the Americans, like me, who read this blog: Isn't it great that our country was founded on these words? Isn't it great that our country was founded on words? 

There is a tendency in the U.S., and perhaps other places, to confuse patriotism with a belief that a country (or a government) must never be seen as being wrong. To criticize or point out problems is considered treasonous or close to it. But this country was conceived based on the idea that nothing is perfect. Our constitution was immediately amended and continues to be to this day; it is a living document that is never meant to be finished.

That's because we're built on ideas. Other places became organized because everybody already lived there or because the monarch decreed it. The United States was somebody's idea. Writers put together the concepts that would initially establish the nation but left open the possibility that changes over time would be necessary.

So the unquestioning dedication to a pledge of allegiance, the inclusion of patriotic songs at sporting events, the almost religious dedication to the flag--these are all things that, if you truly believe in them, have value. But if they're just part of the reflex of belonging to a group, if they exist because we must not question them, they run counter to the idea that started this country.

It has now been 240 years since the words above were written and signed as a statement of clarity and defiance, of purpose and explanation. We celebrate the words and we celebrate the traditions, but we should also keep in our minds the idea that was behind it all.

All people (because even Jefferson, perhaps especially Jefferson, is subject to amendment) begin life as equals. Each person is entitled, by virtue of being a person, to certain basic rights: Life. Liberty. The chance to be happy.

I celebrate those concepts. I am proud of the fact that my country came to being because of them. If I don't stand up when a recording of Kate Smith is played at a baseball game, that is my way of being patriotic. This place was conceived to revel in differences and to question everything. 

I absolutely love that.

This is a revolution, dammit! We're going to have to offend SOMEBODY!--John Adams, "1776"

Hamilton, the Monkees and Paul Simon. Among Others.

Jeff Cohen

It's summer (finally!) and that means things tend to slow down. The publishing business is pretty much on hiatus until Labor Day (except for writers, who plow on throughout, and no doubt agents, right Josh?). All there is for me to do is write and tell you once again that WRITTEN OUT is now available from Crooked Lane. I won't mention the very positive review of the upcoming THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND from Kirkus Reviews, although now I have mentioned it so you know what I liar I am.

But since the pace is a little more relaxed at this time of year, I thought maybe we could devote today to a slightly off-topic topic. Lately, after a spate of... a while... I started listening to some new music, albeit not all from new artists. I am after all a geezer and should not be expected to keep on the cutting edge of new material. But assuming there might be a few other tail-end Baby Boomers checking in here every week, let's look at some new releases because they've been on my mind and for no other reason. 

First, a quick mention of methodology: I pay for the music I listen to, just as I pay for the books I read, the movies I see and the food I eat. I do not steal other people's work. If you do, please don't mention it to me. My stomach is so easily upset. 

As for the way I critique music: Like everything else in the arts, it's completely subjective. I like what I like. You like what you like. In all probability they are not exactly the same. That's okay. It doesn't mean one of us is right and the other wrong. It means I like what I like and you like what you like. Good. More employed artists that way. So onto the latest:

After a spate of only 40-something years, The Monkees (of all people) have put out a new album of music and not another "Greatest Hits" or "Unheard Tracks" rehash. This is new material, albeit some that really is from forever ago but you've never heard it before. And it was produced, played, sung and arranged this year, not in 1966 for the most part.

I'll admit that when I heard the news I was, let's say, skeptical. But it turns out Good Times really is a very good album. It opens with Micky Dolenz, finally starting to get credit for having a really good voice that hasn't lost very much at all since the "hey-hey" days, duetting with of all people the late Harry Nilsson--and a young Nilsson, to boot. The album's title song is taken from a demo tape Nilsson (who wrote for the band when it was a TV phenomenon) made but that was never recorded by the Monkees. Here Dolenz, who was a close friend of Nilsson, gets to play with his pal one last time and it's a great deal of fun.

Besides Nilsson, songs are written by Carole King and Gerry Goffin, Neil Diamond, Rivers Cuomo of Weezer, and band members Peter Tork, Michael Nesmith and Dolenz, among others. 

Much of the album hits the same emotional points as a vintage Monkees album but the production by Adam Schlesinger of Fountains of Wayne (with whom I played softball when I was in my twenties and he was maybe 12) is impeccable and not at all dated. Yes, the 13 tracks are probably two too many but the whole album comes in at less than 40 minutes and is garnering respect from those who would have dismissed the band in its heyday. (And yes, Nesmith took part and has a couple of lead vocals. The late Davy Jones does get a vocal on Love to Love taken from old tapes, and it's nice to hear him one last time.)

After a break of a mere five years, Paul Simon is back with Stranger to Stranger, which has been getting massive critical acclaim and incorporates exotic instruments and sounds that seem to have inspired the brilliant songwriter and performer. The problem is, listening to the album is too much like work. It was probably a lot more fun to record it than to hear it.

It's not that Simon doesn't have good ideas--he always has good ideas--but the melodies are more like a grumpy man mumbling than a great artist spreading his wings. Simon has clearly decided that there's no reason to appeal to a listening audience anymore (in other words, no hooks), meaning he can make music just for himself. That's fine. An artist should be free to express himself as he sees fit. And a few of the tracks (like the single Wristband) are interesting to hear. But overall, I've only gotten all the way through it twice and I had to force myself to pay attention. It might be great, for all I know, but it hasn't stuck with me at all, and I am a long-time Paul Simon fan. He is one of the few artists (I can think of only the one) to whom I have written a fan letter. This one just didn't grab me.

On the other hand, as virtually everyone on the planet now knows, the original cast recording of the resplendent Hamilton will get into your head and never leave. That's fine, because you won't want to banish it ever.

You'll recall--if you're a regular reader and given to such things--that my family and I saw the musical a couple of weeks ago after a seemingly endless wait having bought tickets before last Thanksgiving. As a last birthday surprise for my wife--the occasion for which said tickets were purchased--the recording was waiting in the glove compartment of her car when we were driving home from the performance. It went into the CD player then and I don't think has been out since.

It's one thing to hear a middle-aged Jewish woman quoting rap lyrics around the house or having a 27-year-old explain the Presidential election of 1800 to you a few times (or more). It's another to get repeated listenings to a work this diverse (ethnically and stylistically) and truly appreciate the scope and the ambition of the whole score. It's a marvel to hear and better than that, it's so entertaining that the music, which ranges from hip hop to speed rap to pop to Broadway to girl groups and back again, will occupy your mind. 

I managed to steal the CD from my wife's car and make a condensed copy for my car. It hasn't been out of the player for a couple of weeks. It probably won't leave for some time.

Not brand new, but anything by Circe Link and Christian Nesmith (see Michael Nesmith, above, and note that he is frequently referred to here as "Papa Nez") is worth hearing. Take a listen. Smart lyrics, genius arrangements and some of the friendliest music you'll ever hear. Their latest is a collection of covers called Side Dishes which is fascinating but the original albums are the real treats. Either way, what's not to like?

The Miracle of Conversation

Jeff Cohen

I'd like to talk for a moment about a miracle.

Now, those who read this post regularly might remember that miracles are not part of my belief system. I generally put my trust in science and verifiable fact ahead of faith in pretty much anything. But there is the odd exception at which I marvel, even if I'm not attributing that phenomenon to any higher power.

And I speak here of speaking. I talk of talking. Am I not being clear?

Human conversation just knocks me out. It amazes me in so many different ways. It makes me stop and shake my head in wonderment when I actually consider what's going on when two--or better, more--people get together and just talk. About anything. Yes, even the election, although I would like to take something of a break on talking about that. Suffice it to say that I have no argument with people of color assuming the color isn't orange.

But that's beside the point. Conversation. Think about it. You have a thought. You take that thought and convert it to a verbal expression. Then you voice that expression to someone who can hear it. That person hears what you're saying (or signs it, if that is the mode of communication), comprehends it (assuming you're being coherent) and responds to it almost at the moment you are finished expressing that thought. 

That's amazing. We humans have the ability to compute and analyze verbal communication we didn't know we were going to hear and respond to it pretty much immediately. How is that not a secular miracle?

Now. Let's talk about dialogue. That's right--the words writers put into the mouths of their characters in an attempt to get them to communicate with each other (and, quite frequently and unfortunately, to dispense plot information). When you're writing dialogue, your character who is not speaking at the moment doesn't know what is going to be said. S/he doesn't have a written transcript of the coming speech and in all likelihood does not have hours or days during which to fashion an appropriate response.

Your characters are having a conversation. They are not trading speeches. It makes me crazy when writers of novels, screenplays, theater works or any other fiction refer to things their characters say as "speeches." When you're talking to the guy at the Post Office and you ask if Forever Stamps (best deal ever) will always be valid postage--something that should be obvious from the name, I'm just saying--are you making a speech? No, you're not. You're having a conversation. That's what your characters are doing, too.

Conversation assumes that the people involved can't foresee what's coming. It assumes that the thoughts being expressed, no matter how long they're been in the person's mind, are just being put into words for the first time. Conversation isn't perfect. It isn't gorgeous. It's sloppy and improvised. It's human.

That doesn't mean dialogue in a story should be people grunting and being inarticulate. Stylized dialogue is fine in the right setting. Banter is my favorite game to play. Do most people talk like that? Probably not. Does it work for my story? I like to think so. But the message to be taken away from all this blather is that your dialogue needs to sound like your characters. It needs to be real for them. It needs to sound like they're having a conversation and making it up as they go. That's conversation.

And that's a miracle.

 

P.S. By the way, get a copy of WRITTEN OFF. Here are excerpts from a few reviews.

My Book Publishes Today. That's Not What This is About.

Jeff Cohen

I think I speak for all my DEAD GUY colleagues when I say the events over this weekend in Orlando, FL are unthinkable, unpardonable and absolutely unacceptable. No matter who you might consider voting for it is clear that action needs to be taken. I know what I think should happen. Consider what you think and contact your legislator immediately to let him/her know you will not let the status quo stand. Too many families are crying today. It's not okay and it's not "the cost of doing business." It needs to stop.

 

This weekend saw my wife hit a birthday that had a 0 in it. Since I did not marry a person whose age was in the single digits and we have been married for 29 years, you can probably make a decent estimate of the number involved. That's not relevant.

The point is, whenever such an occasion comes around, I plan something a little more spectacular than I might if the numeral in question ended in a 3 or an 8. One year isn't any different than another really, but we do tend to mark these occasions more significantly than others. Once I organized a surprise birthday party and convinced friends to fly in from Cleveland, Chicago and Honolulu, among other places. The next time a 0 was involved, our children and I took my wife to Rome for a week.

This year, we went to see  Hamilton.

You might have heard of the show. It's gotten a little buzz. So I bought the tickets last November and we sat in seats where only the lower half of the set was visible. They were the last four seats available in the theater. Last November. For a performance that took place this past Saturday.

Well, everything you've heard is true. The blend of hip hop beats, mile-a-minute rap and Broadway song styles is dazzling. The storyline is enlightening and presents history in a way that has already proven to be mesmerizing to young people of all stripes. My daughter teaches algebra to high school students in the Bronx. Not one of them can afford a ticket to Hamilton. If you think they haven't memorized the lyrics to the songs, you are mistaken.

The talent on that stage is astonishing and the inventiveness never stops. Two hours and forty-five minutes go by in a flash. As an audience member, you're moved and amused and devastated and any number of other emotions in rapid succession. I don't know how much play there has been with the facts of the first Treasury Secretary's life, but it rang true even as the style was completely 2016.

And that brought me back to the essence of storytelling and why a good story well told always works. Interest an audience, get their attention, make them care about what goes on. It will take you places and take them places. It will make a difference. It can change the way things are. And as we've seen most painfully, things can use some changing.

By the way, the latest story I have told, WRITTEN OFF, the first Mysterious Detective Mystery, is officially published today. It's gotten some very nice reviews and the readers who have contacted me seemed to have enjoyed it a lot. This is usually the post where I do my best to get you to buy a book, but there was too much going on. And a significant birthday treated to a significant story told in an unusual way.

(We also got as many friends and family as we could to video birthday messages and had my son the filmmaker edit them together into a DVD. And next March my wife and I are going to Hawaii. If the IRS asks you, it's for Left Coast Crime.)

You can't get tickets to Hamilton, but when you can, do. Or buy the soundtrack. But you might want to take a look at WRITTEN OFF, too. After all, there isn't just one story worth telling.

 

P.S.: In order to better celebrate (that is, shamelessly promote) the publication of WRITTEN OFF, I'll be visiting the book club and signing copies at Booktrader of... wait for it... Hamilton (NJ) Wednesday evening at 7:30. Please drop by if you're in the area--all are welcome!

Also, I'll be blogging all over the place this week (what a coincidence, no?):

Cats, Books and More Cats (spoiler alert–there’s no cat in the book): Week of June 12 Speculating on what I’d do if WRITTEN OFF happened to me)

Dru’s Book Musings: June 14 (Publication Day!) A Day in the Life of Rachel Goldman (Plus a book giveaway!)

Jungle Red Writers: June 15 (The Day After Publication Day!) About my dad, not about WRITTEN OFF (too much)

Interview at Shelf Pleasure (hey, we don’t name these things): June 17

Kings River Life: June 18 How do you publicize a nutty book?

Stuff & Nonsense: June 22 On characters doing what they want

This Didn't Actually Happen

Jeff Cohen

So I'm sitting at my desk and the doorbell rings. 

First thing that happens is the dog goes berserk. Of course, our dog goes berserk when a doorbell rings on television and now that we can keep the windows open, pretty much anytime someone walks by the house, so that's not terribly unusual. I tell him to be quiet, he doesn't obey, and I walk to the door. We have our rituals.

After Gizmo finally shuts up I open the door and there stands a woman in her early-to-mid thirties, I'd say, although I'm a terrible judge of age in pretty much everybody, so for all I know she's 108 or 16. The door has a screen in it and I don't want to let the dog out to lick this person within an inch of her life, so I say, "Can I help you?" I mean it literally. I have no idea if I am capable of aiding this woman. Probably she wants to tell me about a political candidate (New Jersey's primaries are tomorrow and for the first time in decades at least one of them actually matters). Probably I want to get back to Words With Friends--hey, it has "Words" in the title, so it's part of my job--and would like to get rid of her ASAP.

"I'm Rachel Goldman," she says.

I chuckle involuntarily. "Sorry," I say. "I don't mean to be rude. I'm a mystery author, and my new book has a character named Rachel Goldman."

"I know," she says. "I'm her." 

I'm so stunned I don't even mention the correct grammar would be, "I am she." Instead my erudite mind comes up with, "Huh?"

"I'm the character in your book. You wrote me. You created me. I don't know what to do.You have to help."

My head starts to hurt. Even Gizmo looks a little confused, but he's a beagle and that's how they look. "In the book, WRITTEN OFF, this is what happens to Rachel," I said. "Her main character, Duffy Madison, shows up at her door." (Actually he calls and then shows up at a book signing, but this is more concise.)

"Yeah," the woman says. "How meta can you get? Can I come in?"

This must be the weirdest campaign pitch in history, but it works; I let the woman into the house. "I'm not sure what it is you're trying to accomplish, Ms..."

"Goldman. Rachel Goldman. You should know. You named me." She sits on the armchair without asking, which is probably what the Rachel Goldman in WRITTEN OFF would do and... wait a minute.

"This is a joke, right?" I ask her. "Somebody who's read the book paid you to come here and pretend to be my character? You're very good, by the way. You must have really studied the book."

"I haven't read it," she answers. 

That's what Duffy Madison tells Rachel in the book. This is getting weird. No. It's been weird since the beginning. Now it's getting eerie.

"Why are you here?" I ask. "You think you're the Rachel Goldman from my book, fine. Go be Rachel Goldman. Duffy comes to her because he's a consultant with the county prosecutor's office and he thinks she can help him solve a missing person case. Why did you come to me?"

She fixes me with a grin. I'm fixed now. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Gizmo thinks bad. 

"The book hasn't even come out yet," the woman points out. "You don't know if people are going to buy it. I don't have any money. I need a place to stay. You got a spare room?"

I think about the room my daughter vacated to go teach in the Bronx. But she might be back in a few weeks, or not, and... Wait. "No," I tell this nut. "You can't stay here. You're wearing nice clothing. Your hair is well coiffed. You're carrying a purse. I'm thinking you got all that stuff somewhere."

She shrugs. "This is what the woman in your book would look like," she says. "I'm her. You didn't write her naked and broke. I'm saying you owe me. I carried a whole novel for you, now I need another week before the book comes out to get myself together. If enough people buy the thing, maybe I'll be super-successful and I'll be out of your hair. If not, well, you can always kill me off in the next one." Her eyes look straight at me like she's challenging me to think of the blood--or ink--on my hands if I decide Rachel (in the Mysterious Detective Mystery series) must die.

"What proof do you have? Anybody could show up at my door and say she came out of my book. How do I know--" 

The doorbell rings and Gizmo loses it again. I hold up a defensive hand to tell "Rachel" I'll be right back and actually step outside the steel door and onto the stoop so I can talk to this new visitor without a beagle baying his brains out in my ear.

This one is a man, tall and thin and looking about six inches above my eyes as he addresses me. "Allow me to introduce myself," he says. "I am Samuel Hoenig."

I bolt back inside and lock the door in his face. Something feels odd. I'm sweating and it's not that hot out. My mind is a little hazy. I shake my head violently to clear it. When I look up, a woman and her tween-age daughter are standing in my living room. "I'm Alison Kerby," she says. "This is my daughter Melissa. There are ghosts here."

Then I sit up in bed, just like in the movies. I look around the dark room and hear the hum of the air conditioner. My wife scuffles a bit on the other side of the bed but stays asleep. I lie back down because there's no one here to see I just woke up and sat bolt upright, making a fool of myself.

I really have to stop eating Raisinets before bed.

 

WRITTEN OFF, the first novel in the Mysterious Detective Mystery series, will be published by Crooked Lane Books next Tuesday, June 14. If you want to get this crazy woman out of my spare bedroom, I hope you'll pick up a copy. (It's also available for pre-order as an audiobook.)

In Defense of the Insufferably Smug

Jeff Cohen

It's been brewing for a long time, but I feel this Memorial Day is the time for me to finally come out of the closet and admit to my true self. Given the level of mockery, disdain and, yes, hatred directed toward my people, there is some risk involved in this revelation. But I am strong enough and sure enough to state it unequivocally and without reservation.

I own a Prius. No. That's not entirely accurate. I own two Priuses. (Prii?)

Comedians, politicians and people with very little tolerance for anything have been decrying the rise of a "PC culture" in America. And no, they don't mean that not enough people are using iMacs. They're complaining that it's not okay for us to use terms considered offensive to some groups, and that jokes aimed in the direction of an ethnicity, religion, disability or point of view are no longer acceptable to the general public.

Personally, I say boo-hoo to that, but it's beside the point.

There are still a few groups who, even in our supposedly too-polite world (has anybody been reading the newspaper lately?) are considered not off-limits. It's still okay, for example, to make fun of overweight people. It's not outside the realm to mock short men. (Stop me if you sense a pattern here.) You want to write characters from the South who are stupid and bigoted? Enjoy.

But undoubtedly one of the weirdest groups to deride is owners of the Prius. The little hybrid car from Toyota that looks a little goofy and isn't built for the Indy 500 is frequently sneered at by comedians. People on the road actually pass us when we're driving well above the speed limit because it's a supposed embarrassment to let a Prius drive faster than you. Owners of said vehicles are asked if it's "really like a regular car" and told that we're smug just for having purchased one.

Some Prius owners are smug. Not as many as those driving Mercedes or Audis, but some. When you sell enough of a product (say, more than three) the chances are good some of the owners are going to be smug. Yes, like to mention that we can get 51 miles to the gallon. Sure, we might feel we're doing more for the environment than a suburban dad driving a Chevy Silverado to his job at an insurance office. Imagine that. Is it possible we think of this dinky little machine as a status symbol? I won't say no. But I bought my first Prius when I was 48 years old. It was my midlife crisis car. Aren't there points for not getting a red convertible?

Worse, I own a Prius c, the even smaller, even weirder-looking version, that can be parked in the glove compartment of most SUVs. People see it, look puzzled, then see the "Prius Hybrid" plate on the back, and I can see their faces change to something approaching disgust. 

Are people subjected to disdain for driving a Honda Accord? Do buyers of Volkswagen Jettas have to justify their purchases on moral grounds? Is it assumed that because you tool around town in a Hyundai Sonata your very personality is in question?

Frankly, it gets a little wearying. The rolling of the eyes. The late-night TV jokes. The insistence of having decent pick-up when up-ramping on the New Jersey Turnpike. All I wanted was a car that would cost less on the weekly gasoline bill and maybe do less damage to the planet. 

Hath not a Prius a fuel pump? Hath not a Prius axles, steering wheels, brake shoes, windshield wipers? Powered with the same (though admittedly less) fuel, damaged with the same sideswipes, subject to the same bird poop, cleaned by the same car wash, warmed and cooled by the same heater and air conditioner, as a gas guzzler is? If you prick our tires, do they not go flat?

In other words, what's your problem?

All I'll say is this: my wife and I took a trip to presidential estates in Virginia one weekend not long ago. We drove from central New Jersey to Alexandria, Virginia (George Washington's Mount Vernon) and then to Charlottesville, Virginia (Thomas Jefferson's Monticello). Then back. Including a few short side trips for dinners and whatnot, that's about 650 miles. 

We filled up before leaving and once before the return trip. That was it. Total gasoline cost: Less than $40. I commuted to Philadelphia the day after we returned. I'm still driving on that tank of gas.

If I'm being smug, I don't want to be... what's the opposite of smug?

 

P.S. Today is Memorial Day in the U.S. It is a somber occasion that acknowledges and honors those who lost their lives in the conflicts their governments undertook. It's not just about barbecue and it's not Veterans Day, which comes in November and honors all those who fought in those conflicts and survived to tell the story. 

P.P.S. Wednesday will be the first day of June. What do you know, WRITTEN OFF by E.J. Copperman comes out in June! If you think I won't be posting about that the next few weeks, you're adorable.

I'd Like to Stop Killing People

Jeff Cohen

The wonderful Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, who edited an even dozen of the stories I've written, once told me she found me unusual among my colleagues: I was the mystery writer who most hated killing people.

As usual, she was completely right. I am not especially interested in violence. I don't really care what the method of the murder might be. Motivations to commit the act always seem stupid in my mind--really, there was no recourse other than to kill somebody? Exactly how much did you need that rare butterfly or the parcel of land in California (it's always in California)? Yeah, you were mad that your wife cheated on you, but so were another thousand spouses, and that's just today. You couldn't just get a divorce? Revenge-cheat? Take up chess?j

The method of murder is just as odd in my opinion. People living in suburban Indiana take each other apart with medieval axes? Citizens of Pittsburgh fly in an exotic plant to create just the right poison? My friend Luci Hansson Zahray, otherwise known as The Poison Lady, tells me a person can overdose on pretty much anything. For your character it has to be that species of Amazonian Strychnos? Really?

I'm not saying I'd ban all murders from all books; of course I wouldn't. Fiction is meant to be free and in some cases hyper-dramatic. I get that, and I have personally murdered more than 20 people in books and short stories. I don't have a problem with the existence of murder mysteries; they have provided me with a nice living and I find writing them to be enjoyable. When the writing is going well.

We are told as crime fiction writers that murder "ups the stakes" in the story and makes it more exciting for the reader. I tend to think that if your characters are involved in answering an interesting question and they themselves are not boring people, there are other topics to be explored.

One hedge against this--and it's one I've used in the past--is to write a supposed murder that turns out not to be a murder in the end. It gives the writer a nice surprise moment toward the end of the story where the assumed victim shows up breathing. I'm not above utilizing that one. But I am interested in writing something else once in a while.  A heist? A missing person? A lost dog? Something? Maybe. Not sure if my publishers would be thrilled, but I'd like to give it a shot. 

It makes me wonder if readers feel the same way. Do you really need there to be a killing (or four) in every book for the story to be interesting? Is that an absolutely essential part of the mystery reading experience? I'm asking this seriously and would welcome answers in the comments below.

What about a mystery with no murder? Not even the hint of one? What do you think?

 

Book-to-Film: Casting?

Jeff Cohen

(I'm currently on the road back to New Jersey from Charlottesville, VA. This was written before I left.)

I always get just a little bit amused when--and this happens much less frequently than it used to--a novelist (or playwright) complains publicly about the adaptation of his/her work for film or television. I live in the hope that some day I get to be as badly abused as some of these writers, because at some point we're going to need a new car.

In truth, it's the fans who tend to be more appalled at the "Hollywood treatment" (usually Vancouver) given their beloved books. We might recall the brouhaha that exploded when Lee Child's beloved Jack Reacher was played on film (and will be again) by a man who had the temerity not to be very tall. 

When I daydream about my works making it to a screen of any size--and I do--I never cast the movie in my head. I swear to you I have never given a moment's thought to who would play Alison Kerby or Samuel Hoenig or Duffy Madison (of the very-soon-upcoming WRITTEN OFF). The brains in the office buildings can cast anybody they like. I'd prefer it be someone who can act, but the writer has no control over this sort of thing and my hair is gray enough already.

No, I consider much more deeply who would write the screenplay for said venture. In a perfect world (my version), naturally that would be me. But the fact is, I've already written the story in another medium and there was a reason it was a book and not a screenplay. I've written screenplays. A LOT of screenplays, in fact. (Don't bother looking up my IMDb page because I don't have one--nothing's ever been produced.) If I wrote a novel it was because that story felt like a novel to me. I'd love to take a crack at an adaptation sometime, but I'm a realist and I know that even if I am hired for that job, there will be rewrites and there will be other writers. Aaron Sorkin gets his screenplays made verbatim. That's the whole list of writers who have that kind of respect.

So who would I want to write the screenplay (assuming I'm not the first choice and Sorkin is busy)? Well, I'm not going to name names, mostly because that's limiting oneself and besides, I still want to harbor the fantasy. It's the writer I care about, then maybe the director--especially if it's a theatrical film we're talking about--perhaps the producer (particularly in television) and then if one has time, the cast.

Personally, as long as nobody's wearing a Spandex costume and taking down CGI buildings, I'm okay with it.

I am not worried about people stomping on my books. Even if a miracle of luck were to happen and some producer wanted to adapt them, and even if that producer turned the novels into something I myself wouldn't recognize as my story, the books would still exist. I have tons of them and I'm about to get more. After WRITTEN OFF will come the Samuel Hoenig novel THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND in September (hi, Terri!) and then the Haunted Guesthouse book SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL in December. Shelf space in my office is somewhat limited already. 

So the books will be there, and readers can open them up and immerse themselves whenever they like. If you think the movie is going to desecrate your memory of a beloved story, here's what you do: Don't go. Don't watch it on TV. Re-read one of the books.

I am a dedicated fan of the STAR TREK TV series from my childhood. The real one, with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock. When it was announced there would be new movies "reimagining" the franchise, I was intrigued. Then I saw the first movie.

Fool that I was, I saw the second one, too. There will be a third this July. I'm not going. I can watch the episodes and theatrical films I grew up on whenever I want. That can be the reality for me. And JJ Abrams and whoever Paramount has decided is next can make their movies and shovel in the money. Good for them. I'm not interested.

It's an honor and a compliment to a writer that someone wants to take the work s/he has done and create a new version of it for a wider audience. That's wonderful and any author should be pleased to see it happen. But just because something's on film or TV doesn't mean it's the "official" version of that story. You, the audience/reader, get to decide what is your version. Stick to it. Cherish it; it's yours. We write it for you.

If someone else has another version that works for them, that's great. You don't have to subscribe. This is a free country for at least the next six months.

If Something Gives You Joy...

Jeff Cohen

So let me get this straight: According to a book that has become the latest in a series of "sensations," I am to de-clutter my house by following one simple rule: I hold every object in my house next to my body, and if it doesn't give me joy, I get rid of it.

Now, I haven't read the book (I barely read anything I didn't write anymore because I just don't have the time, but I am listening to The Three Musketeers in my car), so I'm willing to bet the method has been somewhat simplified in the press. Those devious bastards. First they create a presidential candidate out of an orange rind and a bird's nest and now they're telling me to hold my dining room table against my body to determine if I should keep it.

The idea here is that one needs to divest oneself from the amount of clutter that fills the modern home, and I couldn't agree more. We have more junk in this house than in most third-world countries, and they wouldn't want most of it either. But this particular method of neatening seems a little... let's say inefficient for my taste.

Since I am in essence a simple man (stop laughing!), I would like to question the logic of this particular philosophy. I think there are flaws that would benefit from my input, perhaps for the inevitable sequel, Maybe Joy Was Too Strong a Word.

1. If I'm only keeping objects that bring me joy, what am I going to use the next time the toilet is backed up?

2. There are objects that bring me great amounts of joy that I can't physically hold against my body. My refrigerator is just too damn large, and if you think I'm going to cozy up to it myself, well you don't understand exactly how I get joy out of that thing.

3. I don't get any particular feeling when I hold the dining room chairs next to my body, but I'm definitely going to need to sit on something the next time we invite people over to eat.

4. Do I have to hold every single vinyl record I've ever owned close to me, or can I just hug the cabinet they're in and move on?

5. There's a bottle of Joy under our kitchen sink. It doesn't exactly elate me. What to do?

6. I read an article last week saying dogs don't like to be hugged. We've become so attached to Gizmo. Do we have to discard him, or can we just call that one a draw?

7. Do I have to hug everyone who walks into the house really tightly and then decide whether they can stay? I mean, I don't know where the plumber's been.

8. Hugging each kitchen knife seems not only odd but dangerous. I'm not sure they give me joy, but eating an entire turkey without utensils would be messy and selfish.

9. Just because something doesn't give me joy now doesn't mean it won't at some time in the future. Right now my Yankees cap is giving me anything but joy. Is that always going to be true? (At the moment, frankly, it seems that way.) Note to all who might want to gloat right now: You are just being mean and should be ashamed of yourself. I don't trash talk, ever.

10. If I'm joyful all the time, how the hell can I write anything?

 

P.S. Listen to Circe Link.

You Can Bid Until Friday!

Jeff Cohen

I'll make this short and you can decide if it's sweet. Murder by the Book, the well-known and well-loved mystery bookstore in Houston, TX, suffered pretty severe damage in recent heavy rains, taking on flooding that will be under repair for months. McKenna Jordan, owner of the store, isn't interested in charity to help repair the damage, but she is happy to have people buy books, gift certificates and other merchandise from Murder by the Book to get the store closer to its accustomed state.

A number of authors are doing what they can to encourage people to buy from the store in person, on their website or visit their Facebook page. Here's how McKenna puts it: 

For fans of the work of the elusive E.J. Copperman, here's the pitch: The upcoming WRITTEN OFF will begin the Mysterious Detective Mystery series featuring Duffy Madison, who might or might not be the living embodiment of a character featured in crime novels by Rachel Goldman. There are in existence two Advance Reader Copies (ARCs) of WRITTEN OFF and you can have one of them! All you have to do is help out Murder by the Book!

Both ARCs are now available for purchase by auction on eBay. One can be found here and the other here. High bid on each gets the ARC and a five-week (or so) sneak peek of WRITTEN OFF, with free postage. So feel free to bid! ALL proceeds will go to buying gift certificates to Murder by the Book which will become prizes in a contest we'll be announcing here next week! 

Murder by the Book is a unique store with friendly ownership and employees who care about the genre and love books and authors. I've been there a few times to sign books and there is no more pleasurable experience for a writer to have. So let's help get the store back on its feet--bid! A signed ARC of WRITTEN OFF could be on its way to you! Bidding ends this Friday, May 6 at 10 a.m. and 10:20 a.m. so don't be late. And if you don't want to bid on the ARCs, please do some of the things listed above and keep a Houston landmark of mystery alive!

Biggest Bang for Your Entertainment Buck

Jeff Cohen

This past weekend much of my family gathered at my house for our 45-minute PowerPoint Seder (now in HD!), a ceremony that dates back at least six or seven years and celebrates our limited attention span as well as a few jokes to keep things lively. It's our way of upholding the longstanding tradition while jettisoning the parts of it that we have always considered, well, to say any more would be to annoy people for whom such things are sacrosanct and the one thing we do agree upon is that such people are entitled to their opinion. I have no desire to sound oppositional.

But that's not the point, anyway. At one moment during the evening, one of our guests noticed the box of copies Crooked Lane Books generously sent last week of WRITTEN OFF, E.J. Copperman's soon-to-be-published first edition in the Mysterious Detective Mystery series, of which you will no doubt be hearing quite a bit in coming weeks (trust me). And he picked up one of the copies and said, in very impressed tones, "Oh! Your new book is in hardcover!"

Yes, it is. I'm not sure why people think that's the interesting aspect of the novel, but it is undeniably being released in a hardcover edition rather than the trade and mass market paperbacks that the Haunted Guesthouse and Asperger's Mystery novels (not to mention the late lamented Double Feature series, of which you also might be hearing a little something--or not--in a few months) have been. 

Now, I enjoy the hardcover editions as much as the next guy, assuming the next guy would love to have a novel published even if it were carved in stone or written out in whipped cream. Someone wants to read my words and I'm a happy man.

Still, I am a little concerned about the lack of respect the paperback book is getting these days, particularly as it pertains to mystery novels. 

It is no secret that the number of paperbacks, especially mass market editions, is shrinking in the publishing business. I was not a business major in college and I hold absolutely no knowledge of marketing strategy, as any attempts I have made to publicize my work might indicate. But as an entertainment medium I defy you to find a better value on this planet than the mass market paperback book.

Think about it: Movies are now about $15 a ticket in many areas and usually come in around two hours in terms of entertainment time. TV was free when I was nine years old, but now comes in the form of a cable or satellite subscription, a streaming service, Netflix or Hulu or some other Jetsons-style video-on-demand medium I was writing about as a futuristic dream in trade magazines in the 80s. Bottom line, if you're not picking up the networks on your rabbit ears, and even if you are, you're paying for television. And I know there are some out there who refuse to acknowledge they watch television because they're just too sophisticated for the witless fare to be found there, but they are mostly lying. If you don't think so, look at the comments section on any web site that covered the last episode of Downton Abbey and see if you find some unexpected names there.

Anyway, you're paying for TV. You're paying for music--or you should be, if you don't want to deprive artists of compensation for their work (and you really should be listening to Circe Line and Christian Nesmith if you're not already). An album (remember those?) of music will cost at least $10 on iTunes, for you old fogies who go that way, or more for a (gasp!) CD of the stuff. They last under an hour in most cases.

A paperback book? Depending on your reading time, the average experience has to be at least six hours. Paperbacks cost about $7.99.

That means, from a writer's point of view, you have to sell more books--a lot more books--to be profitable to a publisher and collect royalties above the advance you were (hopefully) paid when you signed the publishing contract. It means you have to work harder to please more people while still writing the book you wanted to read in the first place. Yes. Mass market paperbacks are a harder way to make a living for a writer than hardcovers.

And I love hardcovers. They feel great in your hands, the spines don't wrinkle and splinter, the words are larger and there's an actual dustcover, which is nice because... it avoids dust? I love hardcovers. But I'm also a huge fan of paperbacks and hope they remain with us for a very long time. They are the literary medium of the masses and that should count for something. More people read your book. What's better than that?

Fight for your paperbacks, America. And everywhere else. Keep them coming and keep them cheap. They're minute-by-minute your best entertainment value anywhere. They deserve to be saved.

 

P.S. For those who are attending the Malice Domestic conference in Bethesda, Maryland next weekend, but E.J. Copperman and I will be attending, and depending on how you look at it, it'll be impossible either to see us in the same room or not to see us in the same room. Your call. Whichever one of us is there will be on a panel called Ghostly Murder Saturday morning at 9. One or both of us sincerely hope to see you there.

I Lie A Lot

Jeff Cohen

Okay. Let me explain why I lie so much.

In my regular walking-around life, I try to tell the truth the vast majority of the time. For one thing, remembering the lie is exhausting, and besides, I have very little to hide. So the actual facts are usually what you'll get from me. 

But I have another, less public life that I don't talk about much. And in that one, I lie my brains out quite frequently. Not on important points, but in the details. I don't have one area of my life I'll tell the truth about in that area. And keep in mind, I write fiction for a living, which is a form of lying (although some will say the real truth comes out in fiction), and that's not even the circumstance I'm discussing.

That's right. I fill out surveys.

I don't remember exactly how I got started, but there are a couple sites that offer "rewards" for answering a few questions, or sometimes a LOT of questions, and I've found the practice to be something of a palate-cleanser when I'm writing. I can stop thinking about what Alison, Samuel, Kay or Rachel is going through at that moment and just respond to prompts that are simple. It's sort of a mindless way to be mindful, and in the end you get some air miles or a gift certificate to an online retailer or two.

So every once in a while I get an email prompting me to check in and see what the topic is going to be today. And almost immediately, I start lying.

The survey generally begins with a screening process. That is, a few preliminary questions are asked to see if the survey subject (that's me) fits the demographic the client (usually a company trying to figure out if people will or already do like its product). So they ask my age, and I tell the truth. I'm 58. Deal with it. They ask my gender. Once again, no reason to deny that I'm male. I figure most of these things are filled out by women, so I'm something of a novelty and that might get me into the survey easier. Fine.

Then the survey will ask for my zip code. I change that one every time it's asked. None of their business exactly where I live. They can ask the NSA if they're that interested. Quite frequently the next question will be about my annual income. No chance they're getting a straight answer on that, because for all I know they're a front for the IRS or people hoping to find rich people's houses to rob on a given evening (in which case I'm actually pretty safe, but that's not the point).

If there's an option to answer, "I'd rather not say," I'll click that, and more times than not I'll immediately get kicked off the survey. That's the way it goes. But sometimes there no such out switch, so I'll vary my answers. Tell them my family of four is subsisting on $5000 a year. Go for the middle of the pack. Close my eyes and click on something, just to see if I'm wealthier than I think I am. I never, ever tell the truth. It's just a rude question. You don't answer those. 

I have no such compunction on questions about my health or sexual orientation. Those come up rarely, but if they're there, I'll usually tell the truth. Usually. 

Now, if I actually get admitted to the survey, I'll answer all the questions about the product and the subject matter honestly. I don't want to screw up the results of the survey or I wouldn't have agreed to do these things to begin with, $10 gift certificate or no $10 gift certificate. They get the straight data from me where it counts. 

But if you want to know my annual income, you'd better be my accountant. And I know what he looks like; he used to be married to my cousin.

Pretty much everything in this post is true, by the way. Almost all of it. As is the fact that WRITTEN OFF is coming June 14 and advance readers are emailing to say they like it, which is always very nice. And the Audible version will be available, but I don't know when exactly. The narrator emailed a few days ago with a question or two.

I told her the complete truth.

 

Such a Character!

Jeff Cohen

Update, Thursday, Apr. 14: I am told that Arnold Drucker passed away early this morning at the age of 93. The fact that I posted about him this week was a complete coincidence, but a friend of the family saw the post and let his children know about it. I hope they understand (and I'm told they do) that the piece was written with great affection, and I offer my sincere condolences. 

One of my favorite real-life characters of all time has never made it into a book I've written because I just haven't been able to find the proper context, and because I don't think anyone would believe it.

Arnold Drucker sold consumer electronics equipment in Newark, New Jersey. When I first encountered him I was prepared to use the money I'd saved up working at a men's clothing store in Irvington, NJ one summer to buy my very first stereo component system. Remember those?

My brother, who was about to leave for college and wanted a stereo to take with him, had saved up his salary from the wholesale jewelry business he'd worked at for a number of summers, had heard about Drucker's from our uncle, who had bought... something there. I tended to go from summer job to summer job until I almost sliced off my finger working in the deli department of a Shop Rite and decided the next summer to try for a newspaper internship, which I luckily got. It was harder work, but much safer for my hands. 

So we got into my 1965 Chevy Impala, a car big enough to land aircraft on the hood, and headed into downtown Newark, a drive of maybe 15 minutes. There was free parking at Drucker's if you bought something and we were primed to be big spenders. And that's when I first laid eyes on Arnold Drucker.

He was a middle-aged man, probably younger than I am now. Bald with white tufts of hair on either side. He was slim and energetic, a wheeler-dealer of an electronics salesman who knew what everybody needed based on what he had in excess stock and how to get the best price (for him) out of the negotiation. I found him fascinating. If you want to (kind of) see for yourself, you can get a glimpse here.

But the really interesting thing about Drucker's was that Arnold was selling room-sized speakers, large tuners, turntables, cassette decks (and 8-tracks!) as well as televisions and I'm pretty sure major appliances. He was the only salesman in the facility--there were other guys who get your merchandise "from the warehouse" and help you get it into your car--and you had to wait in a long line to get to talk to Arnold. Some customers were there for the stereo equipment, some were there for the air conditioners, some were there for the vacuum cleaners and others wanted a large, heavy tube TV. Others just came for a Snickers bar and a copy of the New York Daily News.

Drucker's was run out of a newsstand in an office building.

It's true: The whole of the electronics empire was contained in a newsstand. Newspapers and candy bars were out front; the sample electronics were behind the counter. Virtually nothing sold there (aside from the newspapers and candy bars) was on the premises. The big box items were kept in another part of the large building, the basement if I remember correctly. You made your deal with the Mr. Haney of electronics himself, then he wrote up the order and handed it to a minion who would meet you in the parking garage with your merchandise. It was a lot like buying olive oil from Don Corleone, except I'm fairly sure most of Arnold's stuff was at least purchased legitimately. Most of it.

We ended up spending a fortune at Drucker's that day (about $350--each!) and I still have the speakers I bought that day. I'm pretty sure they're in my basement. They were the size of end tables and could be used as such. And I'm sure that a properly equipped iPhone could blow them out of the water today. It's the march of progress and that's not always a good thing.

The Moroccan bazaar aspect of Drucker's was what I found most interesting. Nobody who came with a well-thought-through list ever ended up with what they had decided upon. Everybody drove out of the lot with what Arnold had wanted to sell them and were happy with their choices. My brother and I bought the exact same stereo system because he'd convinced us these were absolutely the best components available at the price we could afford. I'm not an audiophile, which is probably good in this case, and it sounded great to me. It followed me to college, then home, then to my first apartment and when I decided to upgrade I went to Drucker's new store, which he had bought in a more suburban area to compete with the coming Crazy Eddie avalanche.

It was a real store, no cigar stand, and there were staff salesmen. But if you gave any of them the least bit of trouble about what they wanted you to buy, you got Arnold.

Once when my friend Jeff Pollitzer wanted to buy some new speakers for his car--yes, we used to install our own--we drove out to Drucker's. Pollitzer knew what he wanted. Arnold knew what he wanted to sell this kid. He brought out a box of the not-Jensen (or whatever brand Pollitzer had asked for) speakers, for more money, and leaned over confidentially.

"Channel Master," he said as if it was a state secret. "I know the name. You know the name."

We didn't know the name, and neither did anyone else. Not even Mr. and Mrs. Master.

Pollitzer ended up with a third choice, as I recall. He didn't buy the Channel Masters, but he didn't get what he'd come for, either. The speakers sounded fine and everybody was happy, but Arnold had clearly lost a step in the move and the store didn't last very long after The Wiz and Crazy Eddie started taking over the territory.

You couldn't even buy a Three Musketeers there. I mean, what's the point?

 

P.S. Opening Day was last week. You missed it. Luckily, there are 158 games left to be played.

How I Got to the Bestseller List

Jeff Cohen

I am pleased--no, tickled--to report that during the week of April 10, I will be in the #1 position on the New York Times bestseller list.

You don't believe me (as you would be wise not to)? Just click here.

See? Right there at the top of the middle grade (hardcover) list: The book is called Jacky Ha-Ha. And it's my ticket not only to cracking the list, but to hitting it immediately at the top spot.

What's that you say? The authors of the book are listed as Chris Grabenstein and some guy named Patterson? Yes, that's correct. I didn't say I had written a book at the top of the bestseller list, just that it had gotten me there. 

I'm a character in the book.

Yes, it takes place in middle school and the character is not specifically a 58-year-old curmudgeon, but when you turn to p. 111, you'll see my name right up there in the cast list for You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown, the show the kids in this particular school are about to begin rehearsing. And just in case you're thinking, well, there are plenty of guys called Jeff Cohen this little brat could have been named for, let me give you the description (p. 131):

"Jeff is a bundle of energy, curly hair," (Editor's note: See photograph, right) "and quirky eye tics." Not sure where Grabenstein got the eye tics from, but come on. That's me (at that age--I'm hardly a bundle of energy now). I know mostly because Chris alerted me to this the day after the book was released.

The fact is, Chris is a good friend and needed a wiseguy character for his latest collaboration with Mr. Patterson. Since beginning with the wonderful John Ceepak/Danny Boyle, Chris has found great success in middle grades books like his own Mr. Lemoncello's Library series and in collaboration with the ultra-bestselling author he knew from both their days in advertising. Chris even had a very nice New York Times feature in the Real Estate section (!) a couple of Sundays ago. 

Authors are not without their egos and their jealousies. Yes, we love to see our peers do well, but we're also wondering why that wasn't us. That's okay; it's a human response. Grabenstein and I started in this whole odd book business around the same time. I remember meeting him at the Black Orchid during one of the wonderful block parties they used to throw (alas, the place is no longer there and the parties have not continued) and picking up his book because somebody told me Chris "writes funny," which in my world is a challenge. Nobody's allowed to be funnier than me.

Well he's not, but it's close.

I will gladly stop a busy afternoon if there's a new Ceepak book, which alas Chris tells me is not coming anytime soon. They're funny but with heart, the narrator is a developing character who evolves from book to book, and Chris always makes you want to turn pages. His ability to plot and to have secondary mysteries that are tied to character and get to the core of the story leaves me in awe.

I have no jealousy for Chris Grabenstein. I begrudge him nothing. I am thrilled for the great success he's found. That's the absolute truth.

And now he's gotten me to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. That's a friend.

Besides, Jacky Ha-Ha is charming and smart. Written as a remembrance by a narrator who is now an Oscar-nominated actress and alumna of SNL, it tells a story of growth and worry. It's 1990 and Jacky's mom, a Marine, is deployed to Iraq waiting for the order to move in, so she has a good deal of anxiety. At home she's having a hard time behaving because she like to make jokes as a defense mechanism and needs an audience, which too often consists of her peers in the classroom. But one teacher sees something in her, and maybe that's going to make a difference.

Jeff Cohen is one of her pals and quite frankly, I think we need to see more of him. Perhaps a sequel will delve more completely into his complex psychology and heroic talents, most of which consist of being quick with a joke (clearly a fictional conceit). I believe he's a character who cries out for a book of his own. 

One of these days I'll write a character named Chris Grabenstein and see if it helps my sales. I'm not entirely altruistic.

 

P.S. Opening Day has been postponed until tomorrow (when I'll be teaching in Philadelphia and won't be able to watch). So you can call me today, but expect me to be grumpy.

 

The People Vs. O.J.? Nah. I Saw the Original Cast

Jeff Cohen

I am very clear about this: I make things up for a living. That is to say, nothing you'll read from me (with the possible exception of this blog and my two non-fiction books) is true. None of it happened and none of those people--again, with one exception I used with permission--is real. My job, as I see it, is to amuse and entertain. Reality just gets in the way of that.

That's why I have not seen any episodes of The Making of a Murderer or The Jinx. I have not listened to Serial, either "season." I'm not watching any of the current The People vs. O.J. Simpson. I'm not even a fan of In Cold Blood in any incarnation.

True crime honestly doesn't interest me. I understand that some people love the details of the case and want to know whether the accused (there always seems to be an accused) "did it," whether the victim will--despite remaining dead--get justice. I'm not saying those people shouldn't find all this stuff absolutely riveting. It's a perfectly legitimate form of storytelling and for those who find something in it, more power to you.

It's just not for me, that's all. 

I do tend to read non-fiction, partly because fiction reading has become something of a busman's holiday for me. I've always said that I don't read much crime fiction because I don't want someone else's voice in my head when I'm writing (and these days, luckily, I'm pretty much always writing), and I do mean that. Even subconsciously there should be no plot point seepage into my own work. I wouldn't ever steal an idea from another writer on a conscious level but I don't want even the possibility to exist.

Also, one of the reasons a person gets into this game is that nobody's writing the book you want to read, so you have to write it yourself. And that is not insignificant. I do write the kind of book that keeps me interested, largely because you deal with it for a few hours but I have to live with the story for months. I trust that by not boring myself I will hopefully not bore the reader.

But the non-fiction I read tends to be in the areas of historical profiles or biographies. True crime never enters into the mix. Frankly, it's a little depressing for me to begin with and I'm not interested in speculating (as so much of the current crop seems to expect the consumer to do) on whether the party at the center of the investigation is guilty or not. One of the things I've always liked about crime fiction is that we pretty much always get to find out who the culprit is at the end of the story. There is rarely a question left open. In fact, editors have been very clear with me about not leaving anything dangling at the end of a book, even in a series novel. So you get your closure no matter what.

Also, true crime tends to deal with the sensational events, almost always murders, that are meant to pique the public's imagination through the hideous nature of the crime and/or the spectacularly bizarre personalities at the center of the issue. In that way true crime is not all that different from crime fiction. We focus on strange, or at least unusual, crimes (almost always murders although I'd love to write one without) and oversized personalities. The problem is, as Joseph Mankiewicz once noted, "the difference between life and movies is that a script has to make sense and life doesn't".

I'm not interested in getting that close to a sociopath. I prefer a little humor in what I use to fill that "free time" I keep hearing about. For me, the idea of getting that deep into a situation in which someone actually lost his or her life is deflating: Maybe the guilty party is caught; maybe not. Either way, the victim stays dead and I find that disturbing. Yes, people should be exposed and punished when they do something wrong, especially that wrong. But does it make everything okay? Not really.

In fiction, we can make the victim someone nobody liked or someone inconsequential. If we want, we can invite the reader (audience) to care about the victim and offer some idea of restoration in the criminal's comeuppance. A writer can focus on any aspect of the story (I prefer to emphasize character and hopefully humor) and downplay others (like death and terror). That's me. I'm not suggesting it has to be you.

So I won't be checking in on any of the real-life murderers on TV these days. In fact, I don't watch any "reality programming" because I can't think of one that's not insulting to my intelligence or simply uninteresting. Again, this is a matter of personal taste. I will watch some stuff I can't even call a "guilty pleasure" and wouldn't recommend to you at all. But it fills a need for me (and no, I'm not talking about porn). 

That's why I'm not a fan of the true crime genre. So if you refer to whomever that murderer who was made might be or some other "famous" killer and I look blank, you'll know why.

In my head, I'm busy making up something else.

 

P.S. Opening Day is 7 days from today.

It's Great Being a Crime Fiction Author--Usually

Jeff Cohen

Things I Like About Being A Crime Fiction Author

1. Readers are a wonderful group. Even the ones who don't like my books are nice about it.
2. Other authors. What a welcoming community.
3. I have met people named "Twist" and "Sparkle." Try that in an accounting firm.
4. Editors: I've yet to meet one who doesn't really want to make the book be the best it can be.
5. Agents, or at least Josh and the gang at HSG. 
6. I can work in any clothes I want.
7. The kitchen is 6 feet away.
8. People think writing is a superpower and I have it. They're wrong, but don't tell them.
9. My guitar is 2 feet away.
10. All that stuff you have to cram into a weekend? I can do that whenever I want.
11. I can take a long weekend off with my wife in May and don't have to tell anybody.
12. I actually love going to conventions. Lots of pals and new pals waiting to be met.
13. There is no mandatory retirement age.
14. I have something to think about when I'm trying to sleep that won't irritate or terrify me.
15. I can post something silly on Twitter or Facebook and claim it's part of my marketing strategy.
16. Going into a bookstore can be an ego boost.
17. Librarians like me.
18. I consider the New York Times crossword puzzle a necessary part of my working day and no one argues.
19. Want to have lunch sometime? I'm available.
20. If there's a day game I can watch it.

 

Things I Don't Like About Being A Crime Fiction Author

1. Second acts.
2. A slight edge of condescension among the more "literary" types.
3. The kitchen is 6 feet away.
4. That paycheck you get twice a month? I know it's coming but not necessarily when.
5. I can't ever stop working.
6. That long weekend with my wife? I'll be writing 1000 words a day while we're away.
7. I love the conventions. Alas, I don't have time to sleep for a week when they're over.
8. People might stop liking my books tomorrow.
9. People might have stopped liking my books yesterday and I don't know it yet.
10. Sometimes going into a bookstore can be intimidating--they have a mystery section without me.
11. Some plot problems keep me up when I'm trying to sleep.
12. I'm really not very good on guitar.
13. I have time to worry about the election.
14. There aren't that many day games.

Overall, there are far more and better items in List #1 than List #2 and always have been. I love this job. Thanks for letting me have it.

 

It is 14 days to Opening Day.

Gonna Be in Ewing on Sunday?

Jeff Cohen

I'll be speaking on How to Make (Fictional) Murder Funny at the Ewing Branch Library in Ewing, NJ this Sunday (March 20) at 2 p.m., so please register and drop on in! I'll be signing books and talking to the audience afterward. Love to see you there if you're in the area! Only 33 spaces left, so make sure you register!