Get back

If you could time-travel, what era would you go back to and how long would you stay there? 

by Dietrich

JMortonPhoto.com & OtoGodfrey.com

A science fiction question for a crime writer. If I could get some help on this one, I’d ask Dr. Emmett Brown to rev up that Delorean and drive me through time. There sure are some people I’d like to meet. 

First off, we’d pack along some scotch and coffee and blast back to the late 40s, find Jack Kerouac somewhere on the road when he was laying the groundwork to one of the greatest novels ever written. There’s so much I want to ask about that endless scroll. 

While in the forties, I’d ask Doc to zoom us to New York so I could be there to witness Jackson Pollock drip genius on that canvas he called Full Fathom Five.

Then off to Chicago and a decade later to bump into Vivian Maier walking the streets with her Rolleiflex, taking those incredible shots, the genius of which wasn’t recognized until long after her death.

“If you remember the sixties, you weren’t really there.” While I do remember some, there’s much more I missed, so I’d ask Doc to blast to the time when a Mini Cooper could be had for about sixteen hundred bucks, or a Ford Mustang for just a few hundred more. No Deloreans yet, not until ’81. 

It was a decade of incredible music, and I wouldn’t miss the chance to catch Hendrix liberating that Fender, or Janis belting it out at Monterey Pop, or how about a front row seat at the Royal Albert for Cream’s farewell concert. Then we’d head off to London to set down on that rooftop for the final performance of the Beatles at Apple Corps. Then off to Max Yasgur’s farm to witness Santana soul sacrificing in front of that sea of people.

Forward to the early ‘70s for a talk with Hunter S. Thompson around the time he wrote those opening words: “We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold …” 

Then spin forward to the mid-seventies to catch the Ramones at CBGB. From there we could practically walk to the Chelsea for tea with Patti Smith. That place could be a one-stop time-travel destination on its own. Time not being a barrier, I’d just go around knocking on doors, meet all kinds of interesting people who stayed there: Mark Twain, O. Henry, Dylan Thomas, Tennessee Williams, Allen Ginsberg, WIliam S. Burroughs, Dennis Hopper, Stanley Kubrick, Jane Fonda, Tom Waits, Marianne Faithfull, Bob Dylan, Sid Vicious, Leonard Cohen and Robert Mappelthorpe. I’m sure I missed a few.

And I’m still kicking myself over the time I missed the Cockroaches at the Toronto’s El Mocambo in ‘77. A couple of friends called up and asked if I wanted to go down to the Elmo, a favorite haunt under the neon palms, but hell, I had better things to do. Turned out the Cockroaches were the Stones in disguise, playing their first club dates in fourteen years. The two nights ended up being recorded as Love You Live. It would sure be nice to have some memories to go along with the record.

Lastly, I’d want Doc to zoom to ’79 for Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue at Harvard Square, just nine bucks a ticket. With a backstage pass I’d get to meet Joan Baez, Roger McQuinn, Ramblin’ Jack and T-Bone Burnett, along with Dylan himself.

Well that was fun, but you know, writing and reading fiction lets me do that, choose a setting and travel to different times and places. That kind of escape waits on every page, and when I’m writing I love getting lost in images of earthquakes, western gunfights, bank robberies and long lost music scenes. I also relived some of my own past when I wrote Poughkeepsie Shuffle, set in Toronto during the mid-eighties, bringing a lot of memories back to life, adding some color to that story.

A shot in the arm

Are you creative in other ways besides writing – i.e. photography, painting, music, widget making, any other creative pursuits that you might have? Tell us about them and why you pursued writing as a career instead of one of them.

by Dietrich Kalteis

Last time around the minds talked about other forms of creative expression we might pursue if we weren’t writing. I think we can all be creative in just about everything we do. Creative thinking points us to new paths and allows for new ways of seeing things, and it can help us solve problems by seeing different ways around them. 

The one thing needed in order to be creative is inspiration. When I was a kid I loved to get lost in a favorite book. I remember some of the wonderful images I’d draw from novels like the adventures Mark Twain wrote about. And there was Edgar Allen Poe to scare the hell out of me, had me checking under the bed for years, and Rudyard Kipling’s tales of exotic places. 

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” 

— Pablo Picasso

I still read a lot, and a great novel often inspires my own storytelling and makes me want to raise the benchmark. Sometimes its Charles Bukowski, sometimes James Ellroy. I also find inspiration in films like Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Watching Woody Harrelson and Frances McDormand give great performances is a real treat. And I find inspiration in the photos of Elliot Erwitt and Robert Doisneau, and in the paintings of Francis Bacon and Georgia O’Keefe.

“Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.” — Twyla Tharp

I’ve mentioned I listen to music while I write. Sometimes it’s Leonard Cohen, and sometimes its Miles Davis. Whatever suits the mood, and when I get it right, the rhythm of what I’m listening to matches what I’m writing. 

When I’m working on a story, I’ve also learned when not to push it, when to get away from my desk and go and recharge the batteries. So, a walk in the woods or along the shoreline could be in order. Here on the west coast we’re blessed with mountains and ocean all around us, so there’s miles of seawall and endless trails.

Being a creature of habit, I tend to write at the same time of day. For me, it’s early in the day since I’ve got more energy then. But sometimes it’s good to break from that routine and write in a different spot or at different times, or for longer or shorter periods. It’s also good to set it aside for a while and take a break, like between drafts.

I’m not an expert at plants or working the soil, but digging in a garden is a great way to unwind and clear my head, and it can be a good time to work out some story ideas.    

As much as I steer to what inspires me, I try to avoid what drags me down. So, I don’t make a habit of catching the news, even though it’s almost impossible to avoid glimpsing a headline, or having someone say, “Hey, did you hear about …” The news isn’t often uplifting, but once in a while it gives me a spark for a scene or a story idea. 

And as much as we need inspiration, we need courage too. Putting any story out there subjects it to rejection. When I started out I was writing a lot of short stories and submitting them to various publications, and I ended up with enough rejection letters to paper a room. While we all love good reviews, we have to learn to deal with the bad ones, dust ourselves off and just keep going.

“Why fit in when you were born to stand out?” — Dr. Seuss

There’s just something about imagining the scenes and characters, and seeing the stories come to life. And it never comes hard, it never feels like work, and I really can’t see myself doing anything else.

“There's no retirement for an artist, it's your way of living so there's no end to it.” — Henry Moore

Oh, and speaking of putting stories out there, my new one Poughkeepsie Shuffle was released yesterday. 

You can check it out at my publisher's website: https://ecwpress.com/products/poughkeepsie-shuffle 

Or, at my website: https://dietrichkalteis.com

What’s in a name?

How do you choose your titles? Put a bunch of words in a hat and pull them out at random? Use a title generator? Does your publisher do it? Do you find it easy or hard? Do you start with a working title, or just start writing? Has the title ever stayed the same? Is there a title you wish you could steal?

by Dietrich Kalteis

Sometimes the title comes to me before the story even takes shape, sometimes it comes from a scene or a line I’m writing, and often it changes long before I submit the story. 

A title has to grab the reader. Maybe you can’t judge a book by it, but a strong title will surely get somebody to pick it off a store shelf and have a look. 

Title ideas can come from just about anywhere, and there’s nothing hard about coming up with them, it’s more about knowing when I’ve got the right one. Some of my story ideas sit on the back burner long before I start writing them, and I sometimes think about them while still working on the last story. So, by the time I start that first draft, I’ve often got a working title. And it may not be perfect, but I keep it until something better comes along. The same goes for ideas for scenes and the names of characters.

I’m fortunate to have a creative family to bounce ideas off, and I always ask my wife and son what they think of my titles and other ideas I come up with. Sometimes the thumbs go up, and sometimes they go down, but it always helps. And sometimes they come up with something better – like when my wife came up with the title Poughkeepsie Shuffle, which replaced the working title I had at the time.

The titles for House of Blazes and Zero Avenue came as soon as I started thinking about the stories, and they just felt right. Triggerfish started with a different working title, which changed as the story took shape. The same thing happened on the one I’m working on now.

A couple of my favorite book titles started out with working titles. To Kill a Mockingbird was originally called Atticus. And Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls was originally called They Don’t Build Statues to Businessmen. A couple of good examples of why you want to get the title right.

Sometimes the name or a line from a song can make a perfect title. The Deadbeat Club came from a song by The B52's. It just suited the story. And I’ve been asked if my first one Ride the Lightning came from the Metallica album of the same name. It actually came from police slang, meaning to get tasered. And I understand the expression can also mean to fry in the electric chair.

The worst thing about coming up with the perfect title is doing a search and finding out that the perfect title has already been used. Although it gives you a sinking feeling, it might not be a big problem if the other book is in a completely different genre and hopefully printed a long time ago.

Coming up with a title is part of the creative process, and I wouldn’t want to rely on something like a title generator. I need to trust myself to come up with it and know when it’s right. The bottom line is that by the time the novel goes to my publisher, I have to feel 100% sure about every aspect of it.

And the last part of the question: Is there a title you wish you could steal? Here are a few from across the genres that really grabbed me: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof by Tennessee Williams, The Gathering Storm by Winston Churchill, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, Death to Smoochy by Danny DeVito, Go the Fuck to Sleep by Adam Mansbach, Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe, The Winter of Frankie Machine by Don Winslow, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey. I could probably go on and fill several pages.

In a nutshell

Is it a part of an author’s responsibility to develop a good “elevator pitch”? If so, why; if not, why not? Any advice for those trying to develop a good/better one?

by Dietrich Kalteis

It didn’t occur to me when I typed ‘the end’ to my first novel that somebody was bound to ask what the book was about, and that I needed to do more than blink and ramble.

The first time I went to Bouchercon was months before the release of that first novel, and I met an author I admired and I was asked what my book was about. That’s when I learned the importance of having a pitch worked out after I fumbled for the right words, and ended up sounding like I didn’t know what my own story was about. Suffice to say, that author couldn’t have been impressed with my pitch.

And I guess I could have copped the attitude that if I wanted to tell my story in a couple of short lines, why did I bother writing the other 300 pages. Instead, I learned that whether I’m talking to a friend or a filmmaker, and if I want to sell them on my story, I need to be confident and persuasive, leaving them wanting more. So, I need to be concise, express my ideas effectively, but do it with as few words as possible. 

It’s called the elevator pitch to give an idea of how much time you’ve got. You get on, press the button, and go. By the time the doors reopen, you’ve got the storyline across and hopefully you’ve impressed your listener. That or you may as well press the ‘door close’ button and keep talking until security arrives on the scene.

It may seem a simple thing to effectively express a novel in a few lines, but boiling down a story to a few right words can be anything but simple. The pitch needs to be short, to the point, convey the protagonist and the conflict, and it needs a hook — a ‘so what?’ — a reason why they should care.

Another thing I’ve learned is not to talk too fast, don’t cram five  minutes worth of words into sixty seconds of time, like one of those commercials with the medical disclaimer at the end.

To me, loglines, taglines and short synopses follow along the same lines as the elevator pitch, boiled down to just a single line or two. Writing them is challenging and follow the same rule: keep it short and to the point, and with a hook. 

Here’s the one liner for my next novel Poughkeepsie Shuffle, coming out in September: Just released from prison, Jeff Nichols is looking for easy money, not letting lessons from past mistakes stand in the way of a good score.

And a few from some favorite novels and films that really grabbed me.

“A 1940’s New York mafia family struggles to protect their empire from rival families as the leadership switches from the father to his youngest son.” — The Godfather, Mario Puzo (1969) 

”Her life was in their hands. Now her toe is in the mail.” — The Big Lebowski, Coen Brothers (1998)

"A lot can happen in the middle of nowhere.” — Fargo, Coen Brothers (1996)

"Protecting the Earth from the scum of the universe!”— Men in Black, adapted from the Men in Black comic books (1997)

"A man went looking for America. And couldn't find it anywhere.” — Easy Rider, Peter Fonda (1969)

“On every street in every city in this country, there's a nobody who dreams of being a somebody.” — Taxi Driver, Paul Schrader (1976)

“A young F.B.I. cadet must receive the help of an incarcerated and manipulative cannibal killer to help catch another serial killer, a madman who skins his victims.” — The Silence of the Lambs, Thomas Harris (1988)

Work in progress

Share the earliest/a really early photo you have of yourself with us, and tell us what it means to you personally and – if it does – in terms of your writing.

by Dietrich Kalteis

I don’t have a suitable early photo on hand, but I have a few memories of wanting to be a writer. I loved reading from an early age and the images it created in my mind. And I loved spinning my own stories too. In my early teens I penned a first draft of a novel. I can’t remember much about it, just that I kept its handwritten loose-leaf pages in a shoe box, worked on it after school and on weekends. I finally gave up on it, but the idea of writing a novel stayed with me, and I always thought I’d write one someday.

"Everything is hard before it is easy." — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Growing up, I pursued other ventures, taking time now and then  to pen a short story. At one point I started a draft of another novel, but the spark wasn’t there, and after getting a couple of rejection letters, I gave up on it. Finally, after years of hearing me say I wanted to write someday, my wife finally said, ‘If not now, when?’

"Dwell in possibility." —  Emily Dickinson

Those words stuck with me, and I worked out some story ideas and put pen to paper, drafting some short stories during any spare time I could find, mostly late at night. I got my hands on several books on grammar and brushed up on the proper English I’d learned back in school. I tried different approaches and genres, but what I wrote often ended up in the trash bin. That, or I’d rewrite what I’d written the day before, trying to get it to sound right.

“The road to hell is paved with works-in-progress.” — Philip Roth   

It didn’t dawn on me then that the many hours and all those pages that ended up in the scrap bin were important, allowing me to gain the chops and find my voice. Back then I thought I either had the talent or I didn’t. Lucky of me, it wasn’t hard to put time into something that I enjoyed doing. And when I finally felt confident that I had a short story worth submitting, I sent it out, and seeing that first short story in print sure had a way of boosting my confidence, letting me know I was on the right track. The other thing I learned was to not let all that proper grammar get in the way of the rhythm of what I was writing. 

So, I kept on writing short stories and submitting them to various publications. Some of those publications have sadly vanished, but others are still there, and I owe a big thanks to publications like Defenestration, Lowestroft Cronicle, Bête Noire, SN Review, Verdad Magazine, Foundling Review, Poor Mojo's Almanac, Oddville Press and Dew on the Kudzu and several others who published my stories.

One of the shorts I worked on was a piece of dialog between an insurance investigator and a woman who faked a claim, and when I reread it the next day, I thought it had a rhythm to it. It didn’t end up in the scrap bin, and I expanded and merged it with a couple of other ideas. And I had the early stages of Ride the Lightning, and after I worked through a couple of drafts, I submitted it to ECW Press. When I got that letter of acceptance … well, let’s just say not much beats that feeling.

Mostly I write novels now — my sixth is called Poughkeepsie Shuffle, and it will be out in early September, published by ECW Press. I still enjoy writing short stories, and I’m pleased to have one included in the anthology Vancouver Noir. Published by Akashic Books and edited by Sam Wiebe, it’s due out early in November.

Making money and spending time

Authors are increasingly expected to shoulder the time and expense of book marketing and promotion. When was/is enough finally enough? Where do you draw the line and why?

by Dietrich Kalteis

The way I see it, promotion is part of effective marketing. Along with the marketing efforts that my publisher puts in, there are the promotional things I do: speaking engagements, writer events, interviews, podcasts, book launches and tours. Updating my website, writing blogs, soliciting reviews and keeping a presence on social media are all part of it. I haven’t tried book marketing services so I won’t talk about them. And I haven’t tried building a list for newsletters, but I think it could be a good way to update and inform readers. Paul D. Marks has a good one that he sends out regularly.

Attending crime fiction conventions and festivals can be costly, but what a great way to network with writers and readers alike. It’s always fun chatting with readers of the genre, and what a fun and supportive bunch those who write about the most heinous things can be. 

Sometimes it’s hit or miss, and the efforts to promote a book don’t pay off like expected. I’ve taken part in some successful book events with great turnouts, but it’s often hard to predict the outcome. Last year I traveled with a carload of author buddies to a reading engagement several hours away, and when we arrived there were more authors than audience. Okay, we didn’t sign a lot of books that day, but we had a great road trip and a lot of fun, and if there’s ever a chance to do it again, sign me up. 

While some things should be obvious — begging readers and stalking agents is out. And nobody needs to tell me to avoid those marketing gimmicks like websites where, for just a few dollars, somebody will sing praises about my book while hula hooping in pasties and a G-string. Other things may be less obvious, like checking that a book’s metadata is right. It’s what internet search engines use to list entries. 

Where do I draw the line on marketing and promotion? That’s easy. It’s not just about making money, but of spending time. If too much of my focus is on marketing and promoting then who’s writing the books? So, while I do my bit, I avoid becoming distracted by anything that keeps me from writing. And that’s the best effort of all, writing a book worth marketing and promoting, earning some good reviews, building a body of work and gaining an audience. 

And while we’re on the subject of marketing and promotion, I’ll mention the German version of The Deadbeat Club, called Shootout, will be out on May 7th through Suhrkamp, translated by Susanna Mende. Also, my sixth novel Poughkeepsie Shuffle will be released September 11th by ECW Press. Then I’ve got a short story called “Bottom Dollar” in Vancouver Noir, a crime anthology by Akashic Books, edited by Sam Wiebe and coming November 1st. Oh, and if you’re in the Vancouver area, our next Noir at the Bar has a great lineup of authors and is set for May 2nd.

There is a line

Research is a little like an iceberg. A lot of it doesn’t show. How do you decide how much research to put into your work?

by Dietrich Kalteis

Depending on the story I’m writing I may go about the research differently from book to book. I look for interesting facts and details that lend authenticity and accuracy, which allows the reader to believe the settings and what’s going on in the story. When I wrote House of Blazes, set during San Francisco’s earthquake and fire of 1906, I found a wealth of historical information: archives, newspaper articles from the time, first hand accounts and diaries, historical books, archives, web pages. I also found hundreds of photos from the times. There was so much, I had to put blinders on, being careful not to turn the novel into a history lesson. The photos alone gave me fantastic descriptive images, and I picked up some great expressions of the times from the first-hand accounts and diaries. 

One of the best parts of researching a story is going to the location I’m writing about. Of course, it’s not always possible, but it helps to experience the where, as well as to meet the people, see the architecture and so on.

I didn’t have to work as hard or go as far when I researched for Zero Avenue, which is set during the early days of the Vancouver punk music scene. Although I didn’t live in Vancouver right at the time, it’s home now, and I know it well, along with most of the locations I wrote about. I’m also a longtime fan of the music which helped make it easier. And the same went for the next novel, Poughkeepsie Shuffle, (Sept. 2018), set in Toronto in the mid-eighties, where I lived at the time.

The folly of including too much information is a writer can step all over the story’s pace. The details are important, sure, but the story also needs that flow to hold the reader’s attention. So, it’s important to include the strongest images for the reader to paint the scenes I’m describing, all without slowing the story.

And the descriptions have to suit my voice. And more often they have to suit the voices of my characters if something is told from their point of view. Sometimes the details are just snippets and they get tossed around quite casually.

Accuracy is key in any research, so I try to cross-check the reliability of any information I find. If the details end up in the narrative then they have to be right; not so much if it’s coming from a character. They’re allowed to be flawed, the writer isn’t.

Surrounding and immersing myself with a sea of research, sketching diagrams, writing notes to myself, listening to music from a particular period, talking with people who experienced what I’m writing about, all of it helps get me into the setting, imagining what a different time or place was like.

And since I don’t usually plot ahead, it’s amazing what comes along via the research. Sometimes an account, fact or news story comes along and adds a subplot, lending another layer to the whole thing.

When I think of William Faulkner writing the outline for A Fable across his office walls, I appreciate how working on a computer makes the whole process easier and faster these days. I can edit or Google something in mere moments without even getting up. But there is something to the organic process, and I like to go to a library and look things up, and I like to write first drafts in longhand.

So how much research to put into the work? I go for details that paint the best visuals for the reader. It’s key to never let any detail slow the pace. The whole thing to move along with interesting visuals created through the help of careful research. Above all, the writing has to sound authentic.

The bits and pieces

Writers gather a huge miscellany of info - drafts, notes, contracts, plot ideas, pix, reviews, etc; do you have any tricks for keeping it all organized?

by Dietrich Kalteis

I don’t plot or outline my stories, it’s all seat-of-the-pants stuff, but under the surface I’m fairly organized. Electronic files and folders, that’s the key. I keep a general file on my computer for each category of what I write: novels, short stories, screenplays, etc. Then there are sub-folders for the drafts, edits, final files, cuts, reference files, character files, character names used, references, timelines, graphics, photos, marketing files, and so on.

When I finish a novel, I cull through the files and folders and toss out anything that I don’t need anymore. Clearing the clutter. And I start new ones for whatever I’m working on next. The trick is to keep it simple and organized, and in the end I just hold onto what I really need. 

Right now, I’m sifting through the final files for Zero Avenue, and except for copy edits, I’m pretty well finished the one after that, Poughkeepsie Shuffle. Meanwhile, I’m close to sending my publisher a final draft of a new story I’ve been working on, and I’ve got a longhand draft ready to key into the computer for the one after that. Then there are a couple of short stories I’ve been working on. So, with all that going on, I have to stay very organized.

I back up all electronic files on two separate drives. Everything. Every day. Hitting ‘command save’ has become a reflex — as my character Zeke Chamas from Zero Avenue might say, “It’s automatic, like scratching.” And it’s something I learned back when I was in the graphics field (saving, not scratching) — and yes, I learned it the hard way, by losing something I had been working on.

I write first drafts in longhand, keeping the pages in old-school folders. There’s something organic about working with pen in hand. Then the second draft gets keyed into my computer. I wish I could write the whole thing in longhand, but I edit and add too much, and my studio would just end up being a sea of crumpled paper by day’s end. Before the computer came along, I did type out a novel on my old Selectric. Working drafts were a mess of lines scratched out and scribbled notes, and the final draft was painted in Wite-Out and had cut strips of paper taped across the pages, not individual letters like a ransom note, but pretty close. There was never a clean final copy. It was all smoke, mirrors, correction fluid and tape by the time I had a submission ready to photocopy and send out. I guess I sometimes have this love/hate relationship with my computer, but it sure saves me a lot of time.

I still write myself little notes for whatever story I’m working on, and these litter my desk. They’re the little ideas that pop into my head and need to find their way onto the page.

When I wrote House of Blazes I did more research than for the novels set in present-day. The setting was the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, and in addition to the usual files, I had to keep some on ships, autos, dress, which buildings were destroyed, street maps, statistics, newspapers, files on army involvement, ships involved in rescue, a time sequence of actual events that ran concurrent with the story’s events, personal accounts, and so on. When I started out, I thought all that research and organization would drive me nuts, but I actually liked it and learned so many interesting facts along the way. After which I’ve gone on to write more novels steeped in history.

Back when I was writing mainly short stories, I kept lists of where each story had been submitted, often making simultaneous submissions to three publishers for each story, keeping track of rejections and what was still out there. Once a rejection came in, I’d send the story right back out to another publication, keeping track of all that.

In the end, coming up with a system that keeps me organized and avoids disaster sure gives me a lot more time for writing.