The Pumps Gotta Go

Modern Picture Jones Pumping Plant
Scale: See the vehicles on opposite side of canal?

“There’re two sets of pumps drawing water from the Delta. One’s run by the feds and sends water to Southern California. The state runs the other one, the one blown up last night. It sends water to farms on the west side of the valley.”

Jackson stretched his legs and continued. “The pumps are huge, like 25,000 volts. They suck water out of the Delta and pump it up a hill to a canal, where it flows down the valley by gravity. They put them in back in the 50s and right away knew they had a problem. Fish that got sucked into the pumps were chopped to pieces. So they dug canals to take water to the pumps and put up screens so the fish couldn’t get in the canals.”

“Sounds like it would work,” Grant said. “What’s the problem?”

“Lots of controversy.” Jackson said, wagging a finger in the air. “Fish get caught in the screens and have to be pulled out of the water and trucked back to the Delta, far away from the canals. A lot of the fish die in the truck, plus bigger fish hang around the dump sites and gobble up the smaller ones. This has been going on for more than fifty years and they say it’s drastically affected some fish counts, particularly the little ones. And now that the Delta smelt is on the Endangered Species list, environmentalists are calling for the pumps to be shut off.”

“But if the pumps are shut off, where will L.A. get their water?” Grant asked.

“Exactly. No judge would ever go along with it, which is why they’re going after the farmers’ water first. They figure it’ll be easier to take water from a few farmers than twenty million people.”

* * * * *

Continuing from my last post about certain fish species in the San Joaquin Delta and the Tuolumne River, central to the controversy are two sets of huge siphon pumps. Both draw significant amounts of water from the Delta and ship it south.

What Officer Jackson told Grant in this scene, and what Lightfoot told the gang while sermonizing on the riverbank, is mostly true. I’ll admit I made some stuff up to further the story along (it is a work of fiction) and likely got some other stuff wrong (again: fiction).

But here’s an update to the novel: a federal judge began restricting water deliveries from the pumps in 2007. Restrictions became so severe that much of the west side of Central California has reverted back to desert, unemployment hit 45% in some counties, and billions of ag revenue has been lost.

All because the Delta smelt was put on the Endangered Species List. Here is one of the little buggers, 5 to 7 cm (2.0 to 2.8 in) long:

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Sacramento

Even if this had happened in the novel, it wouldn’t have been enough for John Lightfoot. Yes, the pumps have chopped up over 20 million baby salmon (that part’s true), but the pumps aren’t the whole picture. What he’s really after are the dams that control river flow.

That was the deal he’d struck with the two old Paiutes.

The pumps were for him, for fun. Because he couldn’t stand to let them be.

THE MIGHTY T eBook available everywhere, again

I enrolled the eBook version my first Grant Starr novel, The Mighty T, in Amazon's Select program a year ago to see it would help boost sales. That means I had to take it off sale at Nook, Apple, and Smashwords (and all the other sellers they distribute to).

Select didn't do much for sales so I pulled the book out and have priced it at 99 cents. I'll leave it there indefinitely as an entry point into the Grant Starr books.

The Mighty T was my second novel, after Canals. Canals is a horror/sci-fi novel that didn't garner much attention from traditional publishers. I blamed that on the genre, which I still believe is somewhat true. I read this in a post by Chuck Wendig titled 25 Things You Should About Writing Horror:

"Horror’s once again a difficult genre. It had a heyday in the 80s and 90s, evidenced by the fact it had its very own shelf at most bookstores. That’s no longer the case at Barnes & Noble, and Borders broke its leg in the woods and was eaten by hungry possums. I’ve heard that some self-published authors have pulled away from marketing their books as horror because they sell better when labeled as other genres."

Sounds reasonable to me, based on my own experience.

So I thought, "Hey, I'll write a thriller! I like thrillers and there are tons of them in the bookstores." And The Mighty T was born.

Sunset Hill eBook Cover

I finished the cover for the eBook version of Sunset Hill today. Here's what it looks like:

It's a little different than the cover for the paperback in that I used more of the ridged top of the knife, to make it look more like a knife.

The typeface is Kingthings Typewriter 2, a shareware face. The creator, Kevin King, allows free use of the typeface. It's one of my favorite old typewriter faces.

The file has been uploaded to Kindle, awaiting my click on the Publish button. I've just ordered my second proof of the paperback and should receive it next week. When the paperback looks good, I'll publish them both.

After uploading the book file, Amazon's spellchecker found two errors. I hadn't capitalized "Adirondack" and I spelled "wimps" as "whimps". I was impressed Amazon caught the.

I'm looking for readers who'd like to receive a free eBook in exchange for an honest review. I can send the book in Kindle, ePub, or PDF formats. Use the Contact Me page or send me an email to ep (at) everettpowers (dot) com

Cover for Sunset Hill Paperback

After significant delay, I'm finalizing my new novel, Sunset Hill. In the past I've published my eBooks first, then the paperback. Most of my sales are of eBooks.

However, I found I caught a few more mistakes (aren't there always a few?) when proofing the paperback and had to edit both the eBook and paperback versions; such a hassle. This time I'm publishing the paperback first.

Here's the current version of the cover:

I'll see how the proof looks and make changes if necessary.

P.S.  It might appear a little blurry because it was a screen shot. Pages doesn't allow exporting to image formats.

Excerpt from SUNSET HILL

My next Grant Starr thriller, SUNSET HILL, is with the beta readers. Here is an excerpt from Chapter 8.

Grant and Detective Ira Utter of the Seattle Police Department are in Utter’s car heading for a woman’s prison in Gig Harbor where they will interview a convicted killer. Grant is going to try and get the killer to give them the name of her accomplice, who’s started killing again.

Utter is a new character, naturally because he’s in Seattle, Washington, and the other two Grant Starr novels were set in Central California. I didn’t like him much at first because he’s so straight-laced and kind of boring. And, frankly, I didn’t like typing out his name much. But he grew on me and I came to appreciate him, and understand him. His character is in large part his attempt to separate himself from what he was: a drunk.

Grant’s sure the killer they’re looking for is Mindy, who escaped an intense police dragnet after the failed attempt to blow up the Don Pedro Dam in La Grange.

Utter and Grant got into Utter’s department-issued Chevy Impala, and Grant asked Utter, “An Impala, huh? How’d Seattle PD end up with Impalas? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cop driving one.”
“It’s a long story. The short of it is, Chief Dunston’s brother owns a Chevy dealership. They’re not bad cars.”
“I heard they suck.”
“Well ... okay. They do suck. Fortunately, there’s little call for a Seattle detective to engage a suspect in a high-speed chase. We have highway patrol Dodge Chargers for that.”
Grant laughed. “You call in the HP for all car chases?”
“Not all, just the ones where you suspect you might need to go more than eighty. The Impala starts to shimmy at eighty.”
Grant laughed again and said, “How’d the media thing go?”
“Okay. I remembered not to frown.”
“Kept a poker face?”
“Well, it wasn’t like I was being grilled by Mike Wallace or anything. Keely Wolfe asked about you and the others, who you were and why you were here. I said you were consulting because there might a tie-in with a cold case of yours. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t see any harm in it. If you didn’t tell them who we were, they’d think we were feds. That I would’ve been pissed about.”
They swapped stories for thirty minutes until Utter said, “I Googled you this morning. 1970 Ferrari Daytona, huh? From trading stocks?”
“Nah. Short-selling stocks. But I’m out of the game now.”
“Sounds like it was lucrative. And a lot safer than hunting killers. Why not retire and do the stock thing?”
“Because I’d go nuts. Short-selling gave me something to do at night while I dried up. I’d wake up at two or three and flip the computer on, run the numbers instead of reaching for a beer.”
“How long did you drink?”
“Started in high school and didn’t quit until I was twenty-six. Too long, but I know guys who still drink like they did in college, and they’re fifty now.”
“Why’d you quit? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t mind. I had a woman walk out on me. I thought she was the one, but ... turns out she didn’t like angry drunks. Who can blame her? Hell, I don’t like angry drunks.”
“You in AA?”
“Nope.” Grant turned to look at Utter. “Her leaving was enough of a shock that I just quit. Didn’t feel like I needed any help. You sound like you have a story. You in AA?”
Utter nodded and said, “I’m an alcoholic. A recovering alcoholic, as they teach us to say. Unlike you, I can’t touch a drop. Just smelling a beer makes me break out in a sweat.”
“How long you been sober?”
“Five years, sixty-two days.”
“Still go to meetings?”
“Oh yeah. Probably will the rest of my life, or until I’m too old to drive myself there.”
“I guess your marriage survived. Or is this wife number two?”
“No, Lacey hung in there. Probably for the kids’ sake. I think she’ll leave after they move out.”
“Why do you say that? The worst is over, man.”
“The damage has been done, you know? Say you tell someone you hate them and suggest they jump off the Space Needle. You can apologize the next day, but you can’t take the words back. They’ll always be there, floating somewhere in time and space. Some things can’t be undone.”
“Ah, time can heal most wounds, Ira. She’s stuck with you this long, she’s probably gonna hang in for the long haul.”
Utter was quiet for a few moments, then he said, “I think she’s having an affair. In fact, I’m almost positive she is.”
“Ah man, sorry to hear that. You think it’s a revenge thing? Getting back at you for the years of drinking?”
“Could be. I’m thinking about confronting her about it. What do you think?”
Grant blew out a breath, and thought through his answer. “I hate to think I’ll ever have to deal with that, but if I do, I’ll confront her for sure. There are few things worse than someone you love sneaking around behind your back.”
They were quiet for a while, then Utter said, “Did I tell you she wears makeup to Zumba? Who wears makeup to Zumba?”
“Women care about their appearance more than men, even at the gym. In fact, when I used to go to a public gym, most of the women there had makeup on.”
“Zumba lasts an hour, but she’s usually gone two hours. Sometimes three.”
“Ah man...”
“Yeah.”

The Washington Corrections Center for Women was tucked into a corner of McCormick Forest Park, off Washington State Route 16. Utter exited at the Burnham Interchange, wound down Sehmel Drive, then hooked a left on Bujacich Drive, which cut through the park as it led to the prison.
“Sure is pretty country,” Grant said. “Is it always this green?”
“It’s why we’re called the Evergreen State,” Utter said. “This side of the Cascades is always like this. It turns white when it snows, but otherwise is green year round. I assume you’ve got a plan for interviewing Sorrentino? Is there anything you want me to do? Keep my trap shut? Play good-cop bad-cop with you?” He smiled.
“I’ve got a plan, but nothing elaborate. Feel free to jump in if you think you have something to add.”
When they pulled into the prison parking lot, Utter said, “Is there anything you want to ask me about Sorrentino before we go in?”
“I think I got all I need from the files.”

Figuring Plot Details

I'm working on my third Grant Starr novel, with a working title "Sunset Hill," which is in the northeast corner of Seattle, Washington. Grant is based in Modesto, CA, about a two-day drive. Well, maybe one day in the Ferrari. Right off the bat I bet you can see the problem: how do I get Grant involved in a case two states away? He's not some fed.

I ran through several scenarios before I hit on what I think works the best. First I thought he and Amber could be up there on a vacation. But there were several problems with that. One, that's what they were doing when "Death of a Matador" opened. They were in the Mount Shasta area of Northern California, at a B&B. Don't want to be redundant. Also, Bensen has to be in the book and I'm going to write him in as a tag-along on Grant and Amber's vacation. Although he's been curious about Grant and Amber's sex life, him being the married man and all, I don't think he'd go for being the third wheel. So I scratched that idea.

Then I thought, what if Seattle has a case similar to what Grant battled in "The Mighty T" and called him up to help. I saw a bookish detective on the case in Seattle, a guy who remembers everything. He read about the case of the terrorist Samuel Raimes III, who called himself John Lightfoot, and thought his case was so similar that Grant could surely help them. The problem with that scenario was, bah! It was a little boring and, if I may say, pretentious. Maybe if Seattle was dealing with an eco-terrorist like Raimes, but they're not. Plus, Grant would likely have to go to Seattle alone, and we couldn't have that.

Next I thought Grant, Amber, and Bensen could be in Seattle attending some kind of cop conference. I had to consult Google to see if cops had conferences like that and guess what? Not only do they, they had one in Seattle in 2012. I like realism. So, Grant, Amber, and Bensen are at the conference. I'm still thinking about letting Hanks tag along, to make it an even number so Bensen would have someone to share a room with. I still might do that. I liked Hanks limited role in Matador.

I'm almost finished writing chapter one and I'm having a little trouble figuring out a believeable way to get Grant together with the Seattle detective who's caught the murder case we're interested in, Ira Utter. Utter's not an expert at anything so I couldn't have him speaking at the conference. For that matter, Grant's not really an expert at anything, either, wo why would he be speaking?

Ah, but he has had experience in tracking down an eco-terrorist, and not many cops can say that. So, I'm gonna have him take 5-10 minutes of someone else's presentation on "Home-Grown Terrorism" and Utter's gonna be sitting in. But Utter's busy on a new case, why would he take time out to attend a boring conference, especially one meant only for "police executives"? He's there because his captain, Captain Marks, is giving the presentation and she told him he had to go so there'd be at least one person laughing at her jokes. Grant's gonna say something at the end of his breif talk that's gonna catch Utter's ear.

As I've posted about before, I don't want anyone to be able to point out big holes in my plots. I also don't want anyone saying "Hey! That couldn't happen!" So I labor at getting my plots to make sense and keep both feel planted in the real world.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my ramblings.

A Case For Plotting

There are many methods of writing fiction. Here are the most common.

A Found Thing

This is the term Stephen King gives to his style of writing in his book On Writing. It's also known as "By the Seat of One's Pants," but I prefer King's term. It's been a while since I read "On Writing," but this is how I recall King describing it.

Let's say you're having a leisurely stroll through the woods when something on the ground catches your eye. You stop, stoop, and take a look, and discover what you're really looking at is the top of some buried thing. You inspect the thing and form an opinion of what it might be based on what you can see.

It's captured your interest so you clean it off with your hand, and now that you can see it better, your opinion of what it might be changes a little. Now you're really interested so you dig around the edges with your trusty Swiss Army knife and uncover more of the object. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly what you thought it was when you couldn't see as much of it, so your opinion changes again.

This process continues as you uncover more of the object until you've dug the thing up. Based on what it is, you may or not know what you've found. It could be a treasure chest with yet unknown treasures (or terrors!) inside. You'll have to pry the chest open to see what's inside. It might be some kid's backpack he lost a few years ago, containing textbooks his parents had to pay for. It could be a baseball mitt, with nothing to discover inside.

This is how I wrote my first novel, CANALS. I began with a premise: there's a monster in the canals that flow around and through Modesto, California. I planted myself in front of the old Windows 95 computer in the spare bedroom and wrote the first scene of the novel. By the time I finished the first scene, I had an inkling of what would happen next; i.e., I uncovered more of the object. I continued in this manner until I finished the novel.

Writing like this is both exhilarating and frustrating. You might learn, as you write your story, that a character is not the same as you envisioned him or her at the beginning. Or, you'll think of something that should've happened earlier to set up a scene you're currently writing. In other words, an author who writes like this has to do a lot of rewriting. At least I do, maybe King's so good he doesn't have to go bad and edit before he's done with the first draft.

Another negative I've noted is, you can write yourself into some tight spaces where your only logical plot possibilities don't make much sense, or are bizarre. I refer you to King's book It. A great book made into a pretty good TV movie. People the world over are afraid of clowns because of that movie. But the ending... A big spider? Really? To me, a really dumb ending. Many of King's books have endings that make you scratch your head and wonder why. Now you know why.

Strict Plotting

Some writers figure out what happens before they write the story, and they rarely deviate from their pre-determined plot. Much time is spent plotting as they have to flesh out every detail in advance.

King wrote that the only book he plotted was Dead Zone. A pretty good book and movie, in my opinion. Christopher Walken was a perfect choice for the lead. He can do nutty like no one else.

There are advantages to strict plotting: there are no surprises to try and figure out how to handle. And, I understand the actual writing goes much faster. It should, you've already decided what's going to happen, and when.

Fiction Based On Real Events

Truman Capote wrote In Cold Blood in this manner. Find an event that really happened and write a book about it, but turn the truth into fiction by changing things up. If you don't, you're documenting instead of writing fiction. Little plotting is needed because the writer need only follow the path of history.

Mixture of the Above Methods

This is how I write fiction. I begin with a premise, figure out how I want the story to end, then let my imagination tell me what happens in between. You might also call it the lazy-man's plotting; I'm too lazy to plot out a whole book. And for me, it would do away with the exhilaration I had writing CANALS.

Oh, I plot, but I plot in chunks. I think of it like driving at night: I can only see what the headlights illuminate. But the funny thing is, when I reach the last chunk of illuminated roadway, I can already see another chunk in front of me. In this manner I plot pieces of a book at a time. Sometimes I can see a chapter ahead, sometimes half a chapter. Occasionally two chapters, but not often.

You might find it helps to give some thought to your characters before you start writing, but not too much. Don't get your feet planted in a block of cement. Get an idea what they look like and give them some weaknesses; no one likes a perfect person.

For instance, my WIP, which takes place in north Seattle, features a local detective named Ira Utter. I've pictured him as about six feet tall, slim, with dark short-cropped dark hair. He's got a problem: he has trouble pronouncing even the simplest names, even after people tell him how to pronounce them. He's also a germ phobe, but not bad like Monk. And he's a recovering alcoholic who really feels the pull of the booze, like many do.

By giving Utter some characteristics in advance I've set up a number of possibilities. He could fall off the wagon, although that would be a little too cliché. He could have an ex-wife because of his years of drinking, but again, too cliché. Or, his marriage could show the baggage of his years of drinking and be a little messed up. The problem pronouncing names could lead to some humor, as could the germ-phobe thing.

But I've digressed and haven't addressed the topic suggested in the title of my post. Here's what happened to me recently.

I had written an opening with two women getting picked up at a bar by a third woman, only to end up dead in a dumpster a couple of days later. Utter draws the case because he's had four similar cases before. He's the guy chasing the Sunset Hill Slasher. I figured out a way to get Grant, Amber, and Bensen involved that didn't sound hokey, since they live in Central California.

But then I ran into some difficulties I couldn't find a way out of. I had Utter surprised when a witness told him the two women left with another woman, but how could he be if these deaths were his fifth and sixth Slasher cases? If the killer always picks his/her victims up at a bar, Utter should have learned this on the first case. When I decided this had to be Utter's first Slasher case, I also figured out a better way to introduce Grant and his team.

I just figured all this out today so now, starting tomorrow morning, I get to go back and rewrite thirty pages. That's the hazard of not being a strict plotter. On the other hand, I think the direction I'm going in now is far superior that what I had going before.

Every writer has to figure out what works best for him or her, and then work at getting better at it.

1st Review for DEATH OF A MATADOR: 5 Stars

I received my first review on Amazon.com for my latest novel DEATH OF A MATADOR. I'll save you the time of clicking on over to Amazon and publish the review here:

Powers delivers a page-turning police procedural with Death of a Matador, the latest thriller featuring Detective Grant Starr. The action takes place in--until now--a peaceful little dusty town in Central California. From the first page, the story plunges into the fascinating culture of the local Portuguese community, back-stabbing small-town politics, and the inner workings of a police department dealing with crimes related to current hotbutton issues: animal rights activism and the emerging corporate farming of medicinal marijuana.

Powers is a natural storyteller and the dialogue is especially entertaining. You feel like you're riding along with the detectives and officers listening in on their good-natured ribbing, privy to personal and confidential conversations as they unriddle a sudden spate of murders and scramble to protect witnesses. The banter is rich with cultural lingo, convincing police jargon, and spot-on buddy-cop wit.

I also enjoyed the vicarious excitement of wheeling Detective Starr's 1970 Ferrari along a California highway at 120 mph with gorgeous Detective Amber Whitehall riding shotgun! :-)

While the motivations of the corrupt mayor are fully explained, I'd like more insight into the mind of the matador killer. It's understandable that most people like animals, and most people fear going to prison, but I feel that this villain puts himself in extreme peril as an animal-rights activist and as a criminal avoiding capture. I'd like a little more explanation into what makes him tick, what drives him to activism and allows him to be capable of such cold-blooded actions.

Also, I'd like to see Grant Starr put in a bit more personal danger. Sure, he gets shot at, and others rely on him to save their necks, but I'd like to see him sweat-it-out a bit more, to see him in more up-close and personal all-out, whup-ass conflict with the bad guys.

All in all, this story kept me flipping the pages with fully-formed characters, tight action and suspense, very little fluff, and a surprisingly exotic setting via the Portuguese community and their traditions. If you're in the mood for a riveting detective thriller, I recommend it!

I'd love to get more reviews and would be willing to gift a copy of the book to anyone interested in reading and reviewing it. Honest reviews, of course.

THE MIGHTY T in Top 5 Books of 2012

Rick Bylina, author and blogger, has posted that THE MIGHTY T was one of the top five books he read in 2012. He reviewed it on his blog as well as on Amazon. You can read his post here:

Book Review: Best Books For 2012

I appreciate Rick for taking the time to write and post book reviews on his blog as well as posting the reviews on Amazon.com. Very few people go to the trouble of doing that. I'm also quite pleased he liked THE MIGHTY T. I think it's the best of my three novels.


Speaking of novels, I've given up the battle with CreateSpace to get them to print my book correctly. The most recent email I received from them said my book printed correctly, which it most assuredly did not. Here's what page one looked like:

Notice any missing text?

So I reset all text set in the Dante Small Caps typeface to Dante and then capitalized the words. It doesn't look as professional, but I don't feel like going through another round of proof-email-email back-nothing's-wrong-with-your-book with them. When you ring them up you get someone who sounds like a 16-year-old on their first job.

Writing a Novel In a Different Way

Hobble Creek Canyon, Springville, UT - October 2012

The picture of the split-rail fence has nothing to do with today's post. I just love that picture and thought I would share it. It's been the background on my computer since I took the picture last month. We missed the reds by a week, but there were still plenty of oranges and yellows in Hobble Creek Canyon.

When I wrote CANALS I was under the delusion I would be the next Stephen King, so I wrote it in the manner King calls "a found thing." Other writers call this writing by the seat of your pants. I started with a premise, there's a monster living in the miles of canals that pass through and around Modesto, and like a good monster, he's killing and eating people. Any plotting was done by writer's inspiration, or via the muse. It was an exhilarating experience, one I will always cherish, even if I unpublish the book.

THE MIGHTY T and DEATH OF A MATADOR were written with a bit more plotting. I began  writing knowing how the books began and how I wanted them to end, then set about making it happen.

One of my favorite thriller authors, John Sandford, recently posted on Facebook (believe it or not) that he had a looming deadline and needed to write 30K words in thirty days: an average of 1,000 words a day for a month. Those of you trying to write an entire novel this month may scoff at this, but it's still not easy.

Anyway, Sandford said he can write 5,000 words a day when he's finishing a book, because he's just wrapping things up. He says writing the beginning of a book is easy, too, because he's already thought up his characters and a loose plot line. He has trouble with the stuff between the beginning and ending. Not enough stuff and you haven't got a book, you've got a novella. Too much stuff and your publisher gets upset.

Writing novels isn't as easy for me as it is for Sandford because I haven't done it thirty times. I struggle with the beginning, middle, and end. To a degree.

My Grant Starr novels were fun to write, but weren't as much of a thrill as writing CANALS was.

With my next novel, THE YOUNG BULL WRESTLERS, I'm first working on the main characters: the team of forcados. I want to know, as best as possible, who they are before I write the book. And I'm going to plot this book more than I plotted my first three books.

It's a new experience for me. Writers, and everyone for that matter, need to keep stretching their limits and developing their skills.

Tweak to Death of a Matador Print Cover

I wrote in yesterday's post that the color of the printed cover from CreateSpace was off, darker, than how it appeared on my screen. I tweaked it and resubmitted the cover file along with an updated interior file yesterday.

Here's the tweaked cover:

1. I shrunk the white shadow sitting behind "DEATH". I thought the first version looked cheap.
2. The novel is now a "Grant Starr Novel", not a "Grant Starr Thriller". I changed this because John Sandford's novels say this and I figure I can't do any better than to copy a perennial NY Times Bestseller.
3. I lightened the sand in the background photo about 10%. The print version was far too dark.
4. The text on the spine was perfectly centered but too short. I increased the text height, hopefully without messing up the perfect centering. There are a lot of independent book sellers in Utah and I hope to market my books directly to them. Which is why I also left the suggested retail price of $18.99 off the back cover. They can set their own retail price.
5. I moved my picture higher. I realize I need to take a new picture, one more "authorly", meaning stodgy. The back of Sandford's book jackets are a full-length shot of him, but I'm not quite ready for that. I considered moving the picture to the inside of the back page where I would add an author bio, but didn't.

When I created the PDF file for CreateSpace in Publisher 2010, I did so using the "Commercial Printing" setting, which produces the highest quality PDF. Publisher warned me against doing this because the image has a transparent piece, the grey box behind the book blurb on the back cover. It also warned against leaving the file in RGB format. 

Although CreateSpace says to submit files in RGB format, as well as CMYK, I caved and let Publisher change my file to CMYK. Big mistake as it also changed the transparent box to solid. meaning you could no longer see the sand behind the text. Apparently you can't have transparencies in CMYK format. It took me 20 minutes to fix this.

The above image was saved in Publisher 2010 using the 150 dpi setting. The web setting of 96 dpi produces an image with jagged edges, which is unacceptable. 

DEATH OF A MATADOR Ebook Available on Amazon

I'm pleased to announce that after 18 months my new Grant Starr thriller is available in ebook format on Amazon.com. I've ordered the proof for the quality paperback version. I expect to take a few weeks to get it proofed, make any necessary corrections, and upload the new files.

Why only Amazon? I used to offer my books on other venues like Smashwords, iBooks, and Barnes and Noble, but I sold practically nothing on those sites. When Amazon introduced it's Select program, I decided to sign up although it meant removing my ebook titles from all other sites. Nothing's happened to make me change my mind since.

DEATH OF A MATADOR was initially slated to be released last fall, but life got in the way. I'm still behind schedule as my next Grant Starr thriller was expected out about now. It's not likely to be released until next spring.

DEATH OF A MATADOR is not a THE MIGHTY T, which I think is a better book. It has more action, explosions, knife play, etc. While not the best of the two, I think MATADOR is a damn good story. I'm especially fond of Mayor Manny, a rascal and a murderer. I liked how his character turned out so much I was tempted to name the book MAYOR MANNY. Thank goodness I didn't.

The book is dedicated to Nancy, whose last name I'll keep private. Nancy was a patient of mine (I no longer practice) deeply involved in the Portuguese Catholic community. I treated her for years and listened to many stories of festas (pronounced "feshta"), bullfights, queens, dances, and parades.

In the spring of 2011, after I'd self-published THE MIGHTY T and CANALS, I was looking for another idea for a book. In comes Nancy for a treatment, and this time when she mentioned she'd been at a bullfight again, it clicked. I asked her to tell me more about the bullfights and the rest, as they are fond of saying, is history.

Much of what I know about the Portuguese in the Central San Joaquin Valley I learned from Nancy. They are the most active group of people I've ever met. Here's what Manny tells Grant and McKay in chapter four, when he's giving them a lesson on Portagees:

“Now lemme tell you about the church. Portagees love their church almost as much as they love their land and their damn cows. They love it so much they make up reasons to celebrate it every damn weekend from April to November. We got parades for cows and we got celebrations for saints nobody else ever heard of. And Portagees eat. Goddamn how we eat. You’d think everyone of us would be as big as a house the way we eat.

“But we ain’t, and let me tell you why: Portagees work. Sure, we got a few lazy ones, but most Portagees work their ass off all their life. There’s no such thing as a Portagee takin’ a retirement. The farmers around here drop dead in their fields, or on their tractors or in their damn milk barns, workin’ till the day they die.”

He shook his head. “Ain’t that what you want on your gravestone?"

And, lastly, Nancy had her kids save me a seat at the bullfight, right in the front row. I've written Nancy a bit part in the book, doing what she does in real life: running the concessions at the bullfights.

I'd also like to thank my main beta reader, Jay Krow, for his valuable insight and suggestions. He pointed out the bull probably didn't macerate the matador's liver when he ran him through with his horn. The bull likely lacerated it.

I wrote the entire novel in Scrivener for Windows. Well, I compiled it in Scrivener. I wrote some of it on my iPad. I'll post about it some time.

DEATH OF A MATADOR is on sale for $2.99 through the end of next week, a day or two after the election is over. My other two novels are also on sale for $2.99. Regular price is $5.99.

I hope you enjoy the book. It's a great story.

Magazine or Clip?

When investigating whether or not to download a free ebook I came across an interesting review. (I can't recall the book's title.) The reviewer claimed the author used the word "clip" when he should have used "magazine," and went on to explain the difference. This "mistake" bothered the reviewer so much she couldn't enjoy the book. (Evidently the term "clip" was used quite a bit.)

When entering some edits from a couple of beta readers, I noticed I used the term "clip" twice in DEATH OF A MATADOR. Well, I didn't want to offend any readers so I thought I would do a little investigating of my own. This is what I learned.

A "clip" is a gadget that holds bullets until they can be moved into a magazine. A "magazine" holds bullets in position so they can be automatically loaded into the weapon's firing chamber. So, there is a difference.

It's a big deal to gun people!

However, my source, Wikipedia, says the terms have been used interchangeably in movies, TV, and novels for so many years that several dictionaries have altered their definition of "clip" to account for its common usage.

In other words, people who watch movies and TV would likely be okay with an author using "clip" instead of "magazine" in a novel. Most, myself included prior to this experience, don't know the difference. Or even knew there was a difference.

Several things can be learned here:

1. Language is fluid. Words can change meaning based on their common usage.
2. If you're an author and like to be as accurate as you can, do a little research on the words you use. I had used "macerate" in DEATH OF A MATADOR when "lacerate" was the correct word. I doubt the bull had time to marinate the matador's liver in vinegar prior to tearing it apart with his horns.
3. If you're an author who is anal about things like "clip" and "magazine," and you're writing a review for a book that includes one or both of those terms, do some research before you let something as trivial as this dominate your review. Based on common usage, either term can be used without calling in the lawyers.

Here is are a couple of paragraphs from DEATH OF A MATADOR:

Dillard applied the finishing touches to his own uniform, in his hotel room in Turlock.

He checked the time, then checked his gun, removing the magazine to inspect it, reinserting it, flicking the safety on and off. Satisfied it would fire when he wanted it to, he placed it back in the hidden compartment in the camera bag.

Now picture the text with "clip" instead of "magazine." Does it ruin it for you? Maybe it does now that you know there is a difference!

 If you like words, consider Stan Carey's excellent blog.

Cover for DEATH OF A MATADOR

DEATH OF A MATADOR, my new Grant Starr thriller, is set to release, in ebook form, on October 16 on Amazon. I'm in the final stages of editing and formatting for the ebook, and I have what I think will be my book cover.

Like my first two novels, CANALS and THE MIGHTY T, the cover image was created on MicroSoft Publisher. It's not real fancy but I think it's not too bad for a do-it-yourself job by a guy who doesn't own a true graphics program.

Much has been written about the importance of book covers these days. If you look at the covers of most of the "classic" novels, they're plain by today's standards. I think this cover has enough bold elements to capture a potential reader's attention for a few seconds.

The cover typeface is Quartet, designed by Suzana Licko.  I bought it from Emigre back in the early-to-mid 90s, but after a quick check on their site I see they no longer sell it. I've read it's important to use typefaces you own, meaning you paid for them. I've also read you shouldn't use typefaces that come with your computer, like the MicroSoft typefaces on my new Dell Windows 7 machine. I don't know if this is true or not, but all the typefaces I've used in designed my books are ones I've purchased.

What do you think? Honest opinions are appreciated.


Update: October 15, 2012

The more I looked at the above cover, the less I liked it. So I've come up  with this one:

I took the photo at a bullfight I attended in Central California, so I own it's rights free and clear. I think this cover have better graphic elements than the first, although the first may be bolder.

Two New Reviews for The Mighty T

I recently received two new reviews for The Mighty T on Amazon. I don't know either of the reviewers, although one is an author. We recently followed each other on Twitter, but you know how that goes. I have 3,700 or so followers.

Review one (5 stars):

A really good detective thriller. Enjoyable setting, fun protagonists, and really nasty villains.

The setting in the San Joaquin Valley was well done and unique in my reading experience. Powers seems to know it well.

Grant Starr, Benson and Amber are a well matched team featuring brains, humor, and a bit of sexual tension. A cop who drives a Ferrari because he is an investment whiz is also interesting and unique.

I said the villains were nasty, but sometimes I felt sorry for them and their situation. There was an intense mix with varying motivations.

The suspense and tension kept me reading much later than I should have. It is an absorbing read with a realistic, unusual plot.

C.M. Lance
author of Wizard Dawning

Review two (4 stars):

This book had my attention from the first paragraph, then tossed me aside in the final chapter. I was thinking 5 all the way to the end. Reading this book is like building a mansion and then failing to paint it. Why waste so much effort in creating characters, building tension, crafting a plot and then quitting? It's like a great teacher resigns and lets a student conduct the last week of school.

I have to admit I'm puzzled by this review. The ending of The Mighty T was full of tension and suspense. I don't know the reviewer meant by "quitting." I certainly didn't quit.

Unless the reviewer wanted the second dam blown up.

Perhaps he or she was referring to the final wrap-up pages where I detail what happened to the Hetch Hetchy Valley after Lightfoot blew up the O'Shaughnessy Dam.

In any event, I appreciate the reviews and feedback I've received recently. I'll take a four-star review any day of the week.

WIP Sample: My favorite mayor, again

I'm editing the final chapter of the novel I'm working on, the second Grant Starr thriller. I've stated several times in posts that my favorite character is Mayor Mateus Dutra, "Manny".

Grant thinks Manny is dirty, which he is, and suspects he killed a female member of the city council he'd once had an affair with, for reasons unknown. Probably having something to do with the pot deal Manny is trying to push through the city council. Grant collected some of Manny's DNA and his fingerprints the night before, from some bar glasses, and is waiting for the lab to process the evidence. He's sure Manny's DNA will match skin found under the victim's fingernails.

Manny's in a pinch. He doesn't know he's being investigated for murder, he just thinks Grant's on him about taking a bribe, which he hasn't yet done. He's got $300,000 coming Wednesday night, from the pot company, for his part in getting the city council to sign on. But the cops have been all over him... All he's gotta do is make it to Wednesday.

The final chapter takes place on a Monday. Manny has negotiated a little advance on his bribe, which he expects to collect at the bullfight that night. But then Grant is in his face again...

Grant pulled his truck into a parking slot in front of Dutra Insurance Services and shut off the motor. They could see the mayor through the floor-to-ceiling window, and the mayor made a face at them, and said something to his secretary. She glanced out the window at the detectives piling out of the truck, grabbed her purse and exited the front door, holding it open for the detectives.

"What can I do for the cops today?" Mayor Dutra said, trying on his mayor face.

They had decided, in the truck on the way, they wouldn't divulge they were investigating him for the murder of Marina Terra.

Grant said, "I'm glad you didn't leave town, Mayor."

"I ain't got a reason to leave town, and I gotta be at the bullfight tonight anyway. I told you everyone calls me Manny."

"I don't care what everyone calls you, I'm calling you Mayor Dutra."

This brought a glare from the mayor, which he quickly tried to turn into a smile. He and Grant stared at each other until Bensen said, "What time you closing the office today?"

"Why do you wanna know? I don't gotta tell the cops when I'm closin' up."

"In case we need to talk to you again."

The mayor turned his head to face Bensen and said, "Maybe three, maybe four."

"You goin' home after that?" Bensen said.

"I told you I gotta go to the bullfight tonight. I gotta march in the openin' ceremonies."

Grant shifted gears. "Have you spoken to anyone from Allied Valley Growers today?"

The mayor turned back to Grant, his face a dark red. "You know how you kiss a Portagee's ass? The same way you kiss that bitches ass" -- he pointed at Amber -- "you kiss it, but you don't gotta give it no tongue."

Grant popped out of his chair, reached a long arm across the desk and grabbed the mayor's collar and yanked it, lowered his face to the mayor's and said, "You motherfucker..." He made a fist with his free hand and cocked his arm.

Caught off guard, the mayor fell forward onto the desk, grunting and cursing in Portuguese. Bensen and Amber jumped up and grabbed Grant's cocked arm, and Bensen said, "Whoa there Ali. Let's cool this down a tad."

Grant shouted into Dutra's face: "I'm gonna kick your ass, you hear me!"

The mayor, struggling to regain his balance, said, "I'm gonna sue your ass! I told you I ain't gonna talk to you no more without my attorney and now I'm gonna sue your ass!"

Grant shoved Dutra back into his chair, which did not hold his weight and tumbled backward, spilling him onto the floor. Grant shook off Bensen and Amber and pushed his way to Dutra, kicked him in the ribs and bent down and growled, "You pissed off the wrong cop, and you know what? Before this day is done it'll be my pleasure to lock your fat ass up. If I don't kill you first."

Dutra flailed his arms, trying to right himself, looking like a turtle caught on his back, and he shouted, "I'll have your badge and everything you got! I'm gonna--"

"Stuff it," Grant said. "It'll be your word against three cops, and everyone in town knows you're a crook."

"He took a swing at you," Bensen said. "We can haul him in for assaulting a police officer." He moved to stand on the other side of Dutra.

"You fuckers!" Dutra yelled. But he quit thrashing.

"We should haul your ass in," Grant said, "make a spectacle of it. But I'm gonna wait until we got enough on you so they never let you out."

Dutra stared up into Grant's face and said, "You wouldn't be so tough without that badge and gun."

Grant pulled his shield and gun out and set them on Dutra's desk. "You wanna try right now fat man?"

Their eyes remained locked for ten seconds, then Dutra said, "Get outta my office."

Grant said, "We'll be seeing you soon," picked up his things and the detectives filed out of the mayor's office.

Sweating and shaking with fury, Manny rolled out of his chair and used the desk to pull himself up. The blue Ford was backing away from his office, but he could see the tall cop looking back at him. He gave the cop the bird, and the cop made a gun with his index finger and thumb and fired it at Manny.

"Goddamn you!" Manny yelled.

He lurched to the water cooler, drank three cups and doused his face. He knew a guy who could get him a gun on short notice. In fact, he knew a couple of guys. He didn't think the cops had anything on him, he hadn't taken any money yet, but if they did, he'd take that cop down with him. He'd shoot him if the face if it was the last thing he'd do.

 The section still needs a little polishing, but I like it.

Finished first draft of next Grant Starr thriller

No one does the happy dance better than Snoopy!

I finally finished the first draft of my next Grant Starr thriller. I wish I could tell you its title, but I don't know what it is. I began writing this book in April of 2011 and had planned on publishing it in the fall of 2011. Unfortunately, life happened and other things became more important than finishing a novel.

I was tempted to ditch the project for personal reasons, but thought it had merit and deserved to be fleshed out. It weighed in at about 45K words when I set it on the shelf last June and comes in at 131K as a first draft. CANALS ended up at 140K and the THE MIGHTY T at about 100K. I have to admit it was very difficult to complete. I have a great idea for the third Grant Starr thriller, so good it was difficult to ignore its pleas to be written.

This book begins and ends at a "bloodless" Portuguese bullfight, held in a small town about thirty miles from me. They're called bloodless because the bulls aren't killed or hurt, unless you call having to chase a horse or a skinny man dressed funny around the arena being hurt. I've attended two of these bullfights and they're some of the most exciting events I've ever attended.

I wanted to do something a little more challenging this time: I wanted to have two plots that intersected. I don't care to read overly complicated genre books, so I don't write them. As with THE MIGHTY T, the reader will now who done what to whom pretty early in the book. The suspense comes with wondering if they're gonna get away with it, or get caught. I'm not telling!

Hopefully it will be ready for publication in July.

When Can Fictional Characters Have Sex?

Grant scribbled some more notes, then his stomach growled and he realized he hadn’t eaten dinner, grabbed his stuff, drove home and fixed a chicken sandwich with a generous scoop of potato salad, ate it while flipping through a stack of mail.

He booted up his computer and logged onto his stock program, checked things out, nothing had happened, and noted Sean fixed the glitch. Guy was earning his twenty percent.

Went to his recliner, flipped on ESPN, was watching highlights from a women’s tennis tournament, and getting sleepy, when his cell rang: Amber.

“I’m all worked up now and can’t sleep,” she told him when he clicked on. “What’re you doing?”

“Watching women’s tennis. Send someone to shoot me.”

“You got any food at your place? I’m starving.”

“Yeah. You’re not all sweaty though, are you?”

“I am. You have a shower, don’t you?”

Shortly thereafter:

“It’s not locked,” Grant called, when Amber knocked on the door at a little past 10:00.

“This okay?” Amber said, closing the door behind her. “You weren’t about to go to bed were you?”

“If I’d watched any more women’s tennis I’d be fast asleep by now.” Grant got up and went to the kitchen, saying, “I just had a chicken sandwich and potato salad. I’ll make some up if you want.”

“Sounds great. Where’s your shower?”

“It’s out back, in the corner of the yard.”

“I never knew you were such a smartass.” Amber’s voice trailed down the hall.

A minute later, while fixing her sandwich, Grant heard the shower in his bedroom. A few things passed through his mind: why didn’t she use the guest shower? Did she lock the bathroom door? And, what might happen if he waited until the shower warmed up, then slipped in and joined her?

He considered things for a few moments, then was struck with the thought that gyms have showers. That was as good an invitation as he’d ever heard.

He put the food in the fridge, padded down the hall to his room and removed his clothes. When he pushed the bathroom door open, the hinge squeaked.

“ ’Bout time. Get your ass in here.”

Q:  When do characters in books have sex?

A:  At least as often as “real” people do, probably more. They never tire, don’t cramp up, and don’t get sore.

Grant and Amber have worked together for some time, at least a couple of years, but never dated until the day before these scenes took place. Yesterday, in the book, Amber asked Grant if he wanted to get a drink after work, so they spent a couple of hours getting to know each other. (The scene is too long for a post.)

They kissed after Grant walked Amber to her car. Yes, she drove home despite having two shots of tequila and a couple of beers. “I can handle four drinks in two hours,” she’d said. Cops.

Everyone in the department, the men at least, thought Amber should’ve been a model. Use your imagination to picture her any way you’d like. She was very stern at work, even austere. Grant guessed she was like that so the public would take her seriously.

Beauty stirs emotions: In the opposite sex: desire, lust, fantasy… In the same sex: jealousy, coveting, admiration… People like Amber are so good looking they have to play it down.

Then there’s Grant. He’s handsome and drives a Ferrari, and he’s single. Not a bad resume, although Amber does raise a good point: thirty-five and still-single can raise a red flag.

Prior to Amber asking Grant out, she had been zinging him, like this:

“You think of anything else?” Grant asked Amber. Their eyes met for a millisecond; a zing shot down Grant’s back.

And:

Amber nodded, jotted a note, chewed on the end of her pencil. She looked up and made eye contact with Grant: zing.

And then they brushed up against each other in Grant’s truck. More zinging. I’m sure that’s happened to you once or twice. 

Back to my question. I didn’t want to depict Amber, them, as being… easy. I hope I didn’t.

A Cop With A Blue Ferrari

Ferrari Daytona

They left for Pittsburg shortly before 10:00, in Grant’s Ferrari.

Google tried to send them straight through the Delta on Highway 4 because it was the most direct route, but Grant knew better than to listen to Google. He had driven that route once and knew it ran through every Podunk town in the Delta; there were a thousand stop signs, traffic lights, and train crossings. He stuck with the major highways and state routes.

“How fast does this thing go” Amber asked, when they were on I-5.

“Usually five miles over the speed limit, unless I’m in a hurry to get somewhere. Then it might go 120.”

“Do people try to race you?”

“Sometimes. Idiots driving Lexuses or Corvettes see ‘Ferrari’ on an old car and think they can take me.”

“Do they?”

He smiled. “Ever see a Lexus do 140?”

“I thought you said you might do 120.”

“Depends on which idiot needs his ass kicked.”

Then later, when talking to two bored sheriff deputies assigned to guard an empty canal:

The canal ran a mile before it reached the pumping station. The first thing Grant noticed was, the canal was empty. He also thought it strange such a big waterway wasn’t lined with concrete; the bottom was mud and rocks. The second thing he noticed was the blown-up pump building. He said, “Wow. They blew it the hell up.”

“Sure as shit did,” Sawyer said. “Takes a damn big bomb to do that kind of damage.”

The other deputy joined them. He was six inches shorter than Sawyer, had dark close-cut hair, a pointed nose and chin, and was smacking and popping his gum. He introduced himself as Jim Lopes, shook hands with Amber and Grant, and never cracked a smile.

Lopes said to Grant, “What’s Modesto cops doing here in Byron? And how come you got a Ferrari? What’re they paying you in Modesto?”

“I do a little investing on the side,” Grant said to Lopes.

"No shit? This is a $300,000 dollar car. You give seminars?”

“Ah, it didn’t cost anywhere near that much.”

“You stole it from someone, then. Wasn’t that the car Tubbs and Crockett drove on Miami Vice?”

“Well, they drove a Corvette made to look like a Daytona. A fake.”

 And finally:

He hummed through light traffic, had just gone through an intersection when a motorcycle cop appeared and flashed his lights at him. Grant had a hard time liking the guys who drew motorcycle duty; the ones he knew were dicks.

Grant pulled over and the cop took his time. He bent to talk to Grant, and Grant flashed his badge.

The cop, who looked forty-five and had the jowls of a basset hound, frowned and said, “Oh, sorry detective.”

Grant put his badge away. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. I’m Grant Starr.”

“Bert Crappen,” the cop said, folding his ticket book. “I transferred here from Sacramento last month.”

“Sacto to Mo Town? Not much of a transfer.” Grant wondered what school might have been like for a kid named Crappen.

“Yeah, well,” Crappen said, “things were getting kind of stale there. Needed to see some new faces, get a fresh start. Where you headed on a Sunday, Grant? And how’s a cop get a Ferrari? You selling drugs out of the evidence room?” Crappen grinned, revealing a mouth packed with too many teeth.

“Got lucky with some investments, and I’m headed for the Don Pedro Dam.”

“Lucky? Winning the lottery is lucky.” Crappen squinted at him. “Aren’t you the guy in charge of the murders on Monday?”

“Yup.”

“How’s that going?”

“Can’t say it’s going great. We almost got them in La Grange, but we were a hour late. How’d you get Sunday morning church duty?”

“Real reason I moved here was, I got a divorce and was running into the ex all the time. Sorta sucked. Alimony takes a big bite out of my check, I’m just pickin’ up extra shifts.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

“Have a nice drive.”

“Nice to meet you, Bert.” Grant fired up the Ferrari.

If pushed, I’d have to admit I’m a little envious of Grant.

I wanted to make my main character, Detective Grant Starr, stand out, but not in an outlandish way. Owing a 1970 Ferrari Daytona isn’t outlandish, is it? Perhaps it is for a cop, but at least he earned it: he’s got a talent for short-selling stocks and securities. He won’t say how much it cost, but we suspect it set him back at least $200K.

He’s a rich cop, about to get richer in the follow-up to THE MIGHTY T when he sells the software developed from his algorithms. He doesn’t flaunt the Ferrari or chase anyone in it, or even use it to get girls. He might do all of those things in the next book, but the Ferrari is low-key for now.

Ferrari launched the front-engined 365/4 Daytona coupe in 1968. It earned its name by winning the 24-hour race of the same name. 365 denotes the capacity of each cylinder and 4 reflects the number of camshafts. Who knows what all that means? This is what’s important:

Top speed is 174 mph in 5.4 seconds.

About 1,400 were made. And Grant has one.

Cool video:

The Ferrari used in Miami Vice was a faux Daytona Spider built on a Corvette C3 chassis. The replica was built by Tom McBurnie, of Thunder Ranch, in El Cajon, California. You can read about here. 

Picture Source: vetteweb.com