Screenplay Adaptations

It isn't official yet, but I've received a very good offer for the movie rights to Dirty Sweet from a Canadian producer.

Part of the offer is that I'll write the screenplay.

When the book was first published people asked me if I was interested in writing the screenplay because I'd wasted, er, spent a lot of time trying to sell screenplays. At the time I said there was no way I'd want to write the screenplay.

But since then I spent six months writing a TV show, had a great time and met some great people. So now I'm going to co-write the screenplay with one of my fellow writers from The Bridge, Dannis Koromilas (on the left in this picture with me).



It's very exciting. Lots of new possibilities and new challenges.

Of course, not everything form the book will make it into the screenplay and what does will likely have to be changed quite a bit.

We'll have to get the spirit of the book across much more visually than it is on the page. The events in Dirty Sweet seem cinematic, but the book is really a lot of internal monolgues. That's just the way I write. A recent review said of Swap that the book was full of "endless reminiscing." And that's true.

So, it'll have to be changed.

A great example, I think, of a movie changing a book and keeping its spirit is Emma Thompson's screenplay for Sense and Sensibility (oh yeah, here on this blog about crime fiction, that's right, Jane Austen, you know it). A few key scenes from the movie aren't in the book but they develop the characters and pull the whole thing together which I think is much better than making it a nineteen hour movie or just leaving suff out.

The hook in Dirty Sweet is right off the top:

"The cars were stopped on King, right there, waiting for the light to change."

Roxanne Keyes lit another cigarette and told the detectives exactly what she saw happen then. "A guy got out of the Volvo, the passenger side, walked back to this one, and shot that guy in the head. Then he walked back to the car, got in and it drove away."

She didn't tell them she was pretty sure she knew the driver of the Volvo.

Okay, so a couple of problems turning this into a movie. For starters, don't you think the movie should start with the guy getting shot in the head and not someone telling someone else about it?

And, how do you get across the fact she was pretty sure she knew the driver?

Then there's the problem that what follows this opening is pages of Roxanne thinking about her current situation (hey, it's my first book people) and the male lead, Vince, doesn't show up until page 15. That's way too far in for any potential actor reading the script to be interested until his character shows up.

So, this is what we came up with:

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

On a busy street near the intersection, a few people on the patio this crisp fall afternoon.

VINCE comes out of the shop carrying a coffee. He's about 40, good-looking, confident, easy-going. He sits down at a table.

ON THE STREET cars stop at the red light.

An SUV with heavy tinted windows is right in front of the coffee shop.

A man, KHOZA, gets out of the car in front of the SUV and walks back.

IN THE TINTED PASSENGER WINDOW Vince watches Khoza, who's a young looking sixty, and sees the gun in his hand.

Someone on the coffee shop patio yells, "He's got a gun!"

-- and the passenger window EXPLODES, the image of a calm Vince in the middle of panic around him falls in pieces.

Inside the SUV the driver jumps and turns to look at Khoza just in time to get shot in the head.

Blood splatters out the driver's window and hits a BIKE COURIER who falls to the street in front of a city bus that slams on its brakes and gets it from behind by a delivery truck.

Khoza leans in and shoots the guy two more times, then turns and walks back to the waiting car he got out of.

ROXANNE KEYES is coming out the door of the coffee shop. She stares at Khoza as he gets to the still open car door and looks past him inside the car, sees the guy driving, BORIS, and recognizes him.

And Boris recognizes Roxanne.

Khoza gets into the car, closes the door and it drives away. No screeching tires, no cutting off other cars, it just drives through the intersection and disappears into traffic.

The crime scene is pandemonium. People on the sidewalk screaming, people getting off the bus, the bike courier standing up covered in blood.

And Vince watches Roxanne watch it all. She continues on to the patio and takes a seat, taking out her cell phone.

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - LATER

The cops have arrived - lots of them - and closed the street.

Uniformed cops keep people away from the taped off crime scene, lab guys take pictues of everything.

On the coffee shop patio a couple of detectives, PRICE, a black guy in his early 40's and LOEWEN, a white guy in his early 30's, are finishing up questioning Roxanne.

ROXANNE
I'm sorry, it all happened so fast, you know.

They know. They've heard it from every other witness.

LOEWEN
And you're sure the guy wasn't shouting or angry or anything?

ROXANNE
Not that I noticed, I was just coming out.

LOEWEN
Did they seem to know each other?

ROXANNE
Didn't look like it.

LOEWEN
So, for no reason, this guy just got out of his car, walked back to that one and blew some guy's head all over King Street?

ROXANNE
Most of hit that bike courier.

Behind Roxanne Vince is listening and there's the slightest hint of a smile.

LOEWEN
Can you describe him?

ROXANNE
The bike courier? He's right there.

LOEWEN
The shooter.

ROXANNE
I'm sorry, I must still be in shock. No, I didn't really get a good look at him. He was wearing sunglasses, a blue sports coat. Short hair.

She shrugs, she's got nothing else. Loewen nods, looking at his notebook, seeing the same vague description given by everyone else on the patio.

LOEWEN
Okay, thanks for all your help.

Loewen gets up to leave but Price leans forward.

PRICE
What kind of car did you say it was?

ROXANNE
A Vovlo, S80. Midnight blue.

Price can tell Roxanne knows more than she's saying.

PRICE
Not a Lexus?

Now Roxanne realizes she was too certain about the car and the details.

ROXANNE
It could have been a Lexus, I guess.

Price stares at her. He knows. She stares back, not giving in to nerves and the temptation to talk more.

After a beat Price starts to stand up.

PRICE
All right, thanks.

He taps her business card in his hand.

PRICE
We may be in touch.

Roxanne looks at Loewen.

ROXANNE
Anytime detective.

Loewen is pretty much unaware of what just passed between Price and Roxanne, totally taken in by her mild flirtation he stares right at her.

LOEWEN
We'll talk.

He holds her look for a moment and then follows Price out of the patio.

Vince watches them go, then--

VINCE
You didn't tell them you knew the driver.

Roxanne turns slowly to look at Vince. She's calm, in control again.

ROXANNE
Not until I can figure out where I know him from.

Vince looks at her. He's unconvinced. He's also very cool, to the point he seems aloof. Roxanne keeps looking at him.

ROXANNE
You also look familiar.

VINCE
I do?

ROXANNE
We've met, haven't we?

VINCE
I rent practically a whole floor of an office building from you.

(Sorry, I don't know how to format this like a screenplay on blogger).

And it goes from there. It's early days yet and about 95% of all movie projects fall through so the odds are against us, but we'll do our best.

The title, Dirty Sweet, comes from the T Rex song "Bang a Gong (Get it On)," but Dannis has been playing music by an Australian band clled The Church while we write and now it's his dream to get some of their music into the movie.

Is it a series?

By Jay Stringer

When I’m talking to other writers about my work, in those rare moments when I actually start to join in those conversations, I often get asked the same question. It’s a natural one to ask and be asked, especially when you’re at the fledgling stage that I’m at.

“Is it a series?”

And I’ve found that my usual answer is so pull a strange face, make a high pitched noise that makes it sound like I’m stretching to the moon to find the answer, and then saying “Ummm…sort of…yeah.”
Now this answer really has three translations.

-“Why, yes. It is indeed a series, Should I be blessed enough to get a contract and sales that allow me to complete the story as intended.”

-“ummm….yes. But its actually a deep analysis of what a series actually is, and what it needs to do in the modern world to be relevant, and to chart the progression of a man’s self delusion over three or four books. I’m quite excited about it, if not a little pretentious.”

-“Yeah, it’s a series. But for some reason I don’t want to admit it.”

Now I’ll leave you to decide which answer you want to believe. I go with a lovely cocktail of all three. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately as I work through my second manuscript and continue finding my voice. It is a series, hopefully. And it is one with a purpose and a life span. But why do i feel the need to expand on that, and not simply say "Yeah, it is."

Last week I joined in a chat over at THE BIG ADIOS that included, amongst others, Ray Banks, Christa Faust and Tom Piccirilli. And one of the topics that came up was that of series writing. There seem to be an equal amount of plusses and minuses to writing a series as apposed to a stand-alone. You get time to explore your character(s) and to follow through on the repercussions and actions. On the downside, you can become stereotyped and trapped.

Some series appear t exist only for financial reasons, to keep a contract on the authors table and a steady income. Whilst others find new legs and manage to explore ideas and actions that a stand-alone perhaps cannot. One thing that a series writer appears to have is the ability to jump in and out. The author can choose to go off and do a stand alone for a change, whereas a writer of stand alones cannot so easily decide to go off and write a series.

I think a serries that serves of an example of everything both good and bad about a series is the Scudder books. The first four books are standard hard drinking PI books. Very well written, very dark and increasingly confident. The Lawrence Block decided it was time to introduce consequences to his fictional world, and Matt Scudder became an alcoholic.
The series is up to 17 books now, and seems to be finished. Following Scudder’s moment of clarity, we got both some great serial detective fiction, and some lesser books that seemed to exist through obligation. At their best, the books explored Scudder’s ageing, his continuing battle with addiction and doubt, his marriage and infidelity, and a growing friendship with a vicious killer. At their weakest, we got some convoluted plots and a couple of crazy serial killers. Because every series has to have at least one.

Maybe a good analogy for this type of series would be the classic TV show The Prisoner. The series lasted for 17episodes, but when you look at it in the cold harsh light of my living room, about half of those were actually key to the plot and the character. The rest were wacky interludes with westerns and a rocket ship light-house (not that I’ll hear a word said against THE GIRL WHO WAS DEATH. That is TV gold.) So if the story CAN be told perfectly in 6-7 episodes, why take 17?
If you sit with a red marker pen, you can trace names and references in James Ellroy’s work that could link everything from The Black Dahlia up to The Cold Six Thousand (can’t comment on Blood's A Rover yet) as a series. There are tenuous links between Dahlia and The Big Nowhere, and there are a couple of direct links bridging White Jazz into American Tabloid.
But it’s not big deal, maybe because it’s easy to overlook.

Writers like Elmore Leonard and Allan Guthrie seem to have the best of both worlds, they write stories that take place in a loosely shared universe, you can tie in their books if you want to, but you wouldn’t go so far as to call either authors series writers.
This very website has authors who are doing good things with series characters, and I’m knee deep in Russel’s second McNee book right now.

Some books, though, need to stand alone. Buttercup's Baby will hopefully always remain an in-joke at the back of The Princess Bride. The Maltese Falcon somehow seems perfect for not being the launching pad of fifteen similar adventures.

So here are a few questions for you as I sit and type away on my own series.

-What are your favourites?? Which have achieved a level of resonance and insight that couldn't have been achieved in a single story?

-Which authors have managed to find the write balance and to present an evolving character based story? Who has used the format to take their character and story in new directions and elevate the series.

-Do you think there is a maximum length for a good series? How long should they be? Is there a sell by date that an author needs to bear in mind?

Hey, who said that?

By Steve Weddle

I was almost to the grocery story when she called.
“Danny?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, what’s up? You OK? Where are you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Tony got arrested for killing a stripper.”
“You sure know how to party without me.”
“No. Really. He did. I just got him a lawyer.”
“Oh. You’re serious? Tony’s charged with murder?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“You feel like going into details now?”
“I’m on my way to the store for liquor and pizza. Tomorrow I’m gonna look around for who really killed her.”
“So that’s a ‘no’?”
“What?” I asked.
“You don’t want to go into details now?”
“I thought those were the details.”
“OK.”
“What OK?”
“Nothing.”
Neither of us said anything. Great.
“You want to call me later?”
“Yeah.”
“Be careful,” she said.
“Yeah. Hey, Kate.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh, I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Just, you know. Us. Whatever us is.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Me, too.”
We hung up. I went inside the store and couldn’t find anything I wanted.
---------------------
A situation. Two people talking. Dialogue. Does the reader need more? How much more? Should the reader see the inner monologue of one of the characters? Both? How much detail of the scene does the reader need? Should you use details here to slow down the dialogue? To carry meaning? To build symbols?

These are the sorts of questions every writer deals with. To quote or paraphrase. To provide summary.

That dialogue is from a scene I’m writing. Probably near the end things need to slow down a bit as the emotion settles in. Start quickly to get the reader into the story. Then slow down when you want to make an impact. Writers follow this with action all the time.

A novelist might set something up – the killer is just about to enter the room where the main character is passed out drunk. Once the writer sets that up, then the writer can shift the point of view or spend a couple of paragraphs detailing the scene. Or showing inner monologue. All to build tension.

That’s in the action scenes. We slow things down to build tension. We have many ways to play with the action scenes, to work with the reader’s expectations in telling the story. But how many options do we have for dialogue? For running the inner monologue with the dialogue?

I’ve been reading John McFetridge’s SWAP and have been fascinated with his developing technique.
Here, let me show you something from the opening pages when Sgt. Vernard “Get” McGetty is at a border crossing.

“What is the purpose of your trip?”
Get said it was a vacation. “I’m going to the film festival.”
The guy said, oh yeah, and it’s not business?
Vernard said, yeah, “I’m Jamie Foxx.”



What I really like about this (and I’ll give a fuller review of the book at some point) is that, as a reader, I feel like somebody is telling me a story. The indirect quote and direct quote work together to provide a seamless stream of storytelling.

You lose yourself in the story, but never lose the story.

There’s none of the he said, he said, he asked, she said building up. Is that needed? In the opening example, most of scenic details and the “he said” tags are gone. They’re mostly ditched in John McFetridge’s SWAP dialogue, as well. How much of that does the reader need?

How much of the technique, the rules, the framing do we need to get the dialogue across? Do we need to have “The words” followed by the “he said” in each line, alternating with the “she said” tags?

In a recent PARIS REVIEW interview that’s working around the innerwebs, James Ellroy spoke of another author’s dialogue. "I tried to read a Cormac McCarthy book and thought, Why doesn’t this cocksucker use quotation marks?"

Why didn’t James Joyce or John William Corrington use quotation marks?

We all know that writers do everything they can to try to keep the reader “in the story.”

I think the scenery can get in the way of good dialogue. I’ve read writers who try to slow down the talking by throwing in weather reports. And I’ve also read writers who go back and forth with dialogue for a page or two, like some epic baseline volley in tennis. And, well, I get lost sometimes. I have to look a few lines up, figure out who said what, and then follow down slowly so that I know who the writer meant to say, “And that’s when I shot him.” Because that shooting stuff can get to be kinda important. I imagine there’s a rulebook somewhere (that we’ve lost, a la GREATEST AMERICAN HERO) that says only go so many lines of dialogue deep before you reindentify the speakers.

Is anyone else bothered by too much or too little scenery in dialogue? Too many or too few identifiers in who is saying what? Too many direct quotes and too few indirect? Are some writers just better at pacing dialogue than others? What makes good dialogue?

You Might Be In A Spillane Novel If...

by Mike Knowles

You might be a redneck if… You think "loading the dishwasher" means getting your wife drunk.

Jeff Foxworthy has hundreds of these lines and whenever you think you’re bored of hearing them one catches you off guard and you chuckle. I think the laugh comes from the thought that no matter how ridiculous they are, you know there is a kernel of truth buried somewhere in that short line.

Foxworthy came to mind this week when I was thinking about Mickey Spillane. I have to come up with a new title for my next book because the one I chose was already taken by a book about S & M. I thought about Spillane this week because my favourite title is his I, the Jury. The book introduces Spillane’s most famous character, Mike Hammer. Hammer is no redneck, but he is sort of ridiculous. I applied Foxworthy to Spillane and this is what I came up with:

You might be in a Spillane novel if…


You just murdered several gangsters, in front of witnesses, and got off without losing your private eye license.

Most of the Mike Hammer stories revolve around revenge. Someone Mike is protecting usually dies and he immediately shifts into his default personality: alpha male death machine. Mike Hammer will then proceed to chase down, and kill, everyone in his path with zero fear of the law. There are instances where he is hauled in front of a judge, but Mike always walks out free and clear with the DA clenching his teeth and promising to get him next time. Mike Hammer is the Roadrunner to the DA’s Wylie Coyote. Mike amasses a body count somewhere in the high double digits and seems to get off by the skin of his teeth every time. The DA never learns, he just puts out a bigger trap and waits for the anvil to fall on his head again.

You frequently visit the police station to put down a high ranking police official and to taunt him about your upcoming crimes.

Mike Hammer’s best friend is Captain Pat Chambers and in almost every book he warns Mike to leave the business of catching the bad guy to the police. Mike always responds with something surly. He then goes on to explain that he wasn’t listening to what his friend has just said, because he is already planning to murder whoever wronged him. Imagine if you tried this. You see a murder and wait for the police to show up. Just about the time the cops finish the chalk outline, put up the tape, and start interviewing witnesses you walk right through the tape (not under, through) and tell the police that you saw the whole thing, but you’re not going to tell them anything. When they ask why, you promptly show them the butt of your .45 Colt automatic and then start verbally abusing the cops and spouting off about how the gun in your pocket is going to be what gets justice. I’m no lawyer, but if you managed to skate on the withholding evidence charge, I’m pretty sure you’d end up speaking into a nightstick or at least on the business end of a taser before the eventual arrest and trial. The real world isn’t all that kind to smart-mouth sociopaths.

You are a receptionist who has been saving herself for two decades (at least) for a man who behaves like a sailor on payday.

Mike Hammer’s assistant Velda is a private eye herself. She runs Mike’s office and spends her free moments staring at him in hopes he might notice her. She is described as the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth, blessed with brains, fashion sense, and tons of guts. Mike knows she loves him, knows she’s saving herself for him, and he flirts with her constantly. But instead of making it legal with the girl, Mike goes out and boinks whatever women he is investigating. Mike Hammer is the Captain Kirk of private eyes. Every woman he seems to bump into is a goddess who moonlights a nympho with a thing for violent deadbeats. The parade of women never ends and to make things worse, the super smart and sassy assistant just lets him slide.


Even though the Spillane novels have a lot of things in them that you need to suspend your common sense for, you never seem to really take notice of it until you put the book down. While you’re reading Spillane, Mike Hammer’s actions seem like the most normal thing in the world. It’s only after you threaten your neighbour, mouth off to 5-0, and cheat on your wife that you realize no one could ever get away with anything Spillane put on paper.

I know these things now and what it has taught me is that a hiatus every so often to Spillane’s world is a welcome treat. It’s the one of the most visceral literary worlds I have ever been to and if it was possible I would get a season pass because sometimes it feels good to watch the good guy play dirtier than the bad guy and get away with it.

Two Posts for the Price of One

In lieu of a longer, one-themed approach, I’m opting for two shorter ones today.

Sgt. Pepper Moments

On Wednesday, my colleague, John McFetridge, wrote a fantastic article about a Sgt. Pepper Moment he and the other writers for his show, “The Bridge,” had earlier this year (and get a load of the kick-ass trailer for "The Bridge). As they were writing episodes for “The Bridge,” another cop show, “Southland,” premiered and challenged them in new and unique ways. The entire post is well worth reading.

I got to thinking about my own Sgt. Pepper Moments. These would be moments in my life where I experienced something that completely changed an aspect of my life. I’m not going down the ultimate Sgt. Pepper Moment (being a dad), but, rather, staying on topic with mystery and crime fiction. As I wrote in my bio for this blog, I’m a late comer to the crime fiction genre. I’m here because of a Sgt. Pepper moment. I can state it in two words: Mystic River. Up until its publication, I rarely gave mysteries a glance. Heck, I didn’t even realize there was a distinction between “mystery fiction” and “crime fiction.”

That changed in 2001. After listening to an NPR interview (you'll need RealPlayer to hear it) with author Dennis Lehane, I decided to give the book a try. It rocked my world. I had no idea that a book--a *mystery* book--could be so profound. It changed the course of my reading and my interests. It spoke to me in ways I didn’t know existed. I’ve read it three times now, and I return to it when I need to be reminded how a modern master of storytelling demonstrates his craft.

What are your Sgt. Pepper Moments that got you to start reading mystery and crime fiction?

CSI and the Case of the Recurring Story Line

I have watched CSI on Thursday nights since the beginning. Yeah, Grissom’s gone but Sara’s back...again (Jorja Fox, the Brett Farve of television?). It’s almost back to normal. But there’s a new twist in this season’s storytelling. Have you picked up on it? In the premiere, there was Main Case (the lady in the traffic accident) but there was also the John Doe who arrived at the ME. For the bulk of the show, I expected the John Doe to relate (miraculously!) to the Main Case. The episode ended without a link. Hot dog, I thought, are the writers actually going to have a thread that runs through more than one show?

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy and appreciate the Crime of the Week, but lots of times, I want the longer, deeper mystery ("The Wire" anyone?). Come episode two, John Doe made another appearance...and he still wasn’t solved. Way to go, writers. Heck, the closing scene of the program all but indicated something very peculiar going on in the Vegas crime lab. I have my suspicions about Lawrence Fishburne’s character (my wife doesn’t share them). We’ll see how it turns up. Suffice it to day, what CSI has started doing this season is making me want to tune in. In book speak, it’s making me want to turn the pages. Fast.

Are y’all liking CSI so far this year? Do you like their approach to the storytelling? If not, what mystery/cop show do you like and why?

P.S. Coffee

This weekend only, Starbucks is launching it's new instant coffee, Via, in stores. You can go and take a taste test and see if you can identify the instant coffee vs. the brewed coffee. I could smell the difference and the taste was just further evidence. My reward (and yours if you try it): a coupon for a free cuppa joe. For instant, Via was not all that bad, easily the best tasting instant coffee I've ever had. Still, I'm a brew man, myself. But I can't wait for that next camping trip...

Stage Fright

Russel D McLean

By the time you read this, I’ll have launched THE LOST SISTER. Yes, the book’s been available early in some places but tonight is the official release, and let me tell you that I’m excited. Well, nervous. Very nervous.

Thinking about the release, has got me thinking about events. Like, author appearances. And what a strange concept they are. In the end, do we really want to know who it is behind the words on the page? Are we not just setting ourselves up for disappointment?

Perhaps.

Authors are not public speakers. Just because you can write words does not mean you can speak them. I have seen authors torturously mumble their way through appearances, come out with statements that were clearly not thought through and generally make a pretty poor impression on the audience. Some of these guys were immense talents, but it did them no favours to make that appearance.

Which is why I think that authors should always think carefully about events. Do you enjoy doing them? If so, you’re probably halfway there. If not, the audience can smell that dislike from miles away. Believe me.

I get very nervous about events. I get antsy and fidgety beforehand. I lose my appetite, and I get a little grumpy. But when I get up there, I love doing them. I love interacting with groups of people. I’ve done big events. Small events. I’ve done events that are about merely being entertaining and I’ve done events for university courses where I’ve had to be a little more cerebral. I’ve interviewed other authors and I’ve talked about myself. And, truly, I get a kick out of it. I’m not perfect, of course, and no one is, but what I’ve found is that the fact that I’m there and I’m passionate about what I’m talking about translates to the audience.

There are certain things that as an author in the modern age you have to learn – voice projection and enunciation help. The ability to communicate through body language and presence. Basic stagecraft that would have been optional years ago seems to be becoming more and more essential. If you have to put yourself out there, you’re going to need to put in the effort. The audience wants to be on your side, but you have to give them something all the same. They’re forgiving, but if you haven’t put in the effort, they won’t forget.

I’m speaking here not just as an author, but as a bookseller who’s worked with a number of authors on events and launches. I’ve seen good. I’ve seen bad. I’ve seen ugly. And I hope it informs what I do when I head out there with my author hat on.

Tonight, I’m putting myself out there and letting a very smart journalist ask me some questions about the book and about my work. I have half an idea what he’s going to ask, but he could very easily surprise me. I don’t mind this. I prefer panels and interviews because I love having someone to bounce off; its one of the things that make events fun and why as an audience member I generally prefer multi-author panels.

In short, I believe that if we have to do author events, we should always try and remember that they are about some form of showmanship. Not laugh a minute, necessarily, but they should be as much about passion and communication as our novels are.

And so tonight, I step out in front of folks in the vain hope that some of them might buy the new book not just because they feel obligated, but because they’ve had a good time. Because they enjoyed what I had to say. Because they had as much of a blast as I know I’m going to…

CHALLENGGGEEEEE

It's a challenge.

Deep down writing is a challenge. To have the discipline to sit down every day and write is a challenge to begin with.

But what good writers do is challenge themselves everyday. Tonight I attended a signing for Jason Pinter's newest The Fury and Reed Farrel Coleman's (with Ken Bruen) Tower. At the signing both talked about challenge themselves as they sat down to write these novels. To do something different.

As a writer, I respect that. One of the things that's always been important to me is doing something different each time out. To find at least one thing to focus on that was something I hadn't done before. With When One Man Dies I just wanted to complete and publish a novel. With The Evil that Men Do the challenge was to tell a story that had two linear narratives and amp up the speed and action.

Now I'm working on two novels. And each time out, I'm challenging myself more. The novel I've almost completed is a standalone. All the characters in it are brand new. I had to think differently about how to tell a story, who's eyes I'm telling it through. I had to make everything up from scratch. It was a pain in the butt, but I think I'm getting there.

Next I'm challenging myself by making the setting smaller, new characters, smaller stakes, but just as compelling. It's difficult to think about, and even harder to get down on paper. And you know something, that's just the way I like it.

I don't want to tell the same story twice. Each time I sit down to write I want to do something new. I want to come up with ideas and characters no one has seen before. It may not always work, but that's fine. I'd rather fall from the highest heights, that stand on the ground not even looking up.

Try Dennis Lehane. He challenged himself by telling new and different series novels for a while. Then he BLEW IT UP and wrote huge, gut wrenching standalones. And now the rumor is he's going back to the series. That's got to be a challenge, going back to characters nearly ten years later. I'm interested to see what he comes up with.

But what do you as the reader want to see? More of the same or something brandy dandy new?