Everything old is.... by Cathy Ace

Craft: Which crime fiction archetype do you find truly essential to the genre? Which would you like to see retired for a while?

Having been briefed to not use a Jungian interpretation of the word “archetype” for this blog, I shall also add that I will also do my best (WARNING: it’s going to happen however hard I try!) to avoid alluding to the work of Canadian Northrop Frye, who was instrumental in developing an at-the-time revolutionary understanding of literary criticism, placing at the center of his “archetypical criticism” the idea of a framework of shared mythology lying behind any “current” ideology that might be expressed.

I should also tell you – by way of full disclosure – that I studied literature at university, until I was completely turned off by a tutor whose almost-manic espousal of the Cambridge Critics’ approach led me to change my specialism from literature and philosophy to psychology and sociology. I’m glad I did, because it allowed me to seek to understand the human condition on my own terms – then interpret it in my writing – rather than spending years critiquing how others wrote about it, with no suitable background knowledge: a process of literary criticism based upon linguistics, sociological, psychological and philosophical insights needs an understanding of those very issues…so I decided to start there, rather than with the criticism itself.

To be clear, when it comes to archetypes I’m talking about the slutty femme fatale who'll do anything to get what she wants...which usually involves the use then downfall of a man;  or the divorced cop/PI with a drinking/smoking/etc. problem who, nevertheless, pursues justice at all costs; busy-body sleuths who are actually motivated by an overwhelming sense of right vs wrong, and are determined to see that those who do wrong are punished; the brilliant if eccentric investigator who bobs and weaves through complex puzzle plots, often seeming to want to solve them for the sake of the puzzle not the victim...and so forth. 

And, to answer today’s question – I like them all, and believe they are all as necessary today as they have ever been. And when I say “have ever been”, what I mean is they have always been there, since the earliest mythologies.

Why do I like them all?

I see these archetypes as being the benchmarks against which readers read, and I believe we authors write with them in mind, write around them, and write against them as we craft our tales, and the people who populate them. We cannot ignore them, because they are so deeply entrenched in our crime-fiction-fan minds that they are a constant reference point.

As an author, I constantly refer to our collective understanding of archetypes, and I don’t think any of them need to be retired because…what’s the point? They still exist in every reader’s mind, even when they aren’t on the page, and each reader has enough choice of authors and titles available to them to avoid any that irk them, personally.

To be honest, I believe many readers are drawn to archetypes, because they allow for so much character-based storytelling to be dealt with in what’s effectively a “shorthand”, allowing the author and the reader to work in cahoots…until, maybe, the author throws a twist into the tale to delight the reader…which, in itself, usually uses the “rules of archetype” to allow the twist to be a twist.

Good writers give us new interpretations of archetypes; the best writers nuance them to the extent we can even see a potentially new archetype emerge. But even then – even if they manage that – the benchmarks are still there. 

You can find out more about Cathy, her work and her characters at her BRAND NEW website, where you can also sign up for her newsletter with news, updates and special offers: http://cathyace.com/

Bring Me a Heroine

Q: Which crime fiction archetype do you find truly essential to the genre? Which would you like to see retired for a while?

-from Susan

Essential: A protagonist who is honestly curious, pricked by a desire for justice, unable to let go of a thorny question until she/he can answer it to her/his satisfaction. Whether it’s a true mystery, a detective story, a thriller, or a spy novel – cozy or noir – this role has to exist for there to be a story. Doesn’t have to be an alcoholic or a bitterly divorced person, or someone with a tragic past, although we usually like to know the protagonist isn’t perfect. Can be a paid investigator or a confused amateur. But buried inside this complicated individual is someone who is in her or his soul offended by the crime in question. Some of my personal favorites are Smiley, Blanche White, Guido Brunetti, Inspector Montelbano, Maisie Dobbs.

Who could I do without? At this moment, anyone who is the “Girl” in a title! I’d also be happy to be finished with the Hannibal Lectors of crime fiction – the evil killers who are demonically brilliant, hanker after females as entertainment or food, and supposedly either charm or hypnotize the protagonists and their allies into fatal mistakes that involve torture. In recent years, they get more and more gross, more sadistic, hungrier…

At the other end of the scale, I have to admit I’m bored by the innocent young woman whose romantic life is the pits and who stumbles, clear eyed and chipper, on dead bodies in the organic vegetable aisle of her upper middle class grocery store in her upper middle class town, in an always-sunny world that either doesn’t exist or that I don’t want to visit. Oh, and there’s a cute guy with whom she has a sparky encounter. (Aside: A reader who got an advance copy of DRESSED FOR DEATH IN BURGUNDY griped in a published review that she didn’t like the book because it’s set in France, you know, like Provence and tourist places? But the author wrote about cold, wet weather and so the book was dark and gloomy. Author’s note: The story takes place the two weeks before Christmas, which in that spot is cold, wet, and gloomy. The author knows because she spent two weeks before Christmas there conducting research for the book.)

Oh, the Streets of Rome Are Filled with Rubble

Wish list for the next ten years of your life. 

From Jim

No one knows exactly when the music will stop. You hope there’ll be a chair available when it does, but eventually the seats fill up and you’re out. As sad as that might be, it’s inevitable so you might as well accept the bitter truth that, tôt ou tard, we’re all going to shuffle off this mortal coil. I’m at an age when thoughts of mortality are beginning to creep in, but I’ll take aging over the alternative any day. And that’s why I have ambitions. For this post, I’ll stick to the writing life, keeping my personal goals to myself.

In the next ten years, I’d like to:

1. Write as many damn books and short stories as I can. We can’t live forever, but our work has a chance. 

2. Meet and get to know as many readers and writers as I can. I love the community and find the company inspirational. That means lots of conferences. Not just the older, more-established ones, but all of them. Bring ’em on. As Tom Joad said, “I’ll be there, Ma.” And I hope to see you all there until they take me out feet first. 

3. Produce that one great book that we all feel we have inside. I’m proud of my books, but I don’t for a minute presume to think I’ve written my best work yet. I’ve got The Band’s “When I Paint My Masterpiece” running through me head as I write this. And once I’ve written that great novel, I jolly well intend to write another one. Better. And then another.

4. Achieve the financial freedom to accomplish the goals enumerated above. I don’t need to be rich, but travel and booze don’t come cheap. And I like travel and booze.

5. Get one of my books reviewed in the goddamn New York Times.

6. Stay out of jail.

7. Eradicate the improper usage of “beg the question” from public and private dialogue.

8. Thumb my nose at anyone who aspires to transcend the genre. Ours is the best genre. Why would anyone want to transcend it?

9. Avoid ever appearing on the front page of the New York Post or the New York Daily News. Any tabloid paper, for that matter. Nothing good ever comes of that.

And finally,

10. Wear an ascot and get away with it.

So, while I’d love to have thirty-plus years left in the tank, I’ll content myself with these ten for now. Check back in 2028 for the next installment. 

What a ride

by Dietrich Kalteis

Wish list for the next ten years of your life. 

Making it through the next ten years should be at the top of anybody’s list. But, let’s take that as a given. How I live those years is the key to it.

“Some people will tell you that slow is good – but I’m here to tell you that fast is better. I’ve always believed this, in spite of the trouble it’s caused me. Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube.” — Hunter S. Thompson

Sometimes fast, sometimes slow and sometimes a happy medium. Life’s about finding a balance, and at the end of it I want have done everything worth doing. And I want to have fun doing it. They say laughter keeps us healthy, so tell me a joke or put on The Big Lebowski, or Tracey Ullman doing Angela Merkel, or one of George Carlin’s standup rants.

It’s about being with people that light me up, like my wife and son, family and friends. And it’s about surrounding myself with what influences and inspires me. Aside from those special people, I’m influenced and inspired by art. There’s soul in a Kandinsky painting, the essence of Paris at night in a Brassaï, and magic in those unguarded moments captured on Vivian Maier’s streets. There are the songs of Tom Waits, the groove of Miles Davis, and the orchestrations of Tchaikovsky. And there are those great film performances like Gary Oldman’s in The Darkest Hour, and Frances McDormand’s in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.

Now and then I like to paint, or I take my camera for a walk, looking for something that catches my eye. It’s interesting how many artists explore other creative forms. Bob Dylan paints, Patti Smith writes and explores the visual arts, and Picasso wrote poetry. Billy Bob Thornton and Jeff Bridges have cut albums. Juliette Lewis sings punk, Clint Eastwood plays jazz piano, and Meatloaf and Tom Waits have starred in films. 

Sometimes I dust my guitar more than I play it — I admit I’m better at the listening than the playing — but it’s fun anyway. And I’m inspired by all kinds of music. I’ve always got an album playing when I’m working on my stories. As I’m writing this, I’m listening to Robert Plant sing “Carry Fire.” Just awesome. 

Norman Mailer was asked what art form he thought a novelist was closest to, and he answered acting. “Because it’s the same work. A novelist and an actor have to know how to inhabit characters.”

Aside from paintings, photos and music, I find inspiration in the pages of great novels like Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead, or Margaret Atwood’s Hag-Seed, or The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler. There are so many great books to keep me reading for the next ten years. 

Life’s a balance, and if I just sit around writing, reading and playing music, I become dull, so I’ve got to step away from my desk occasionally and get together with family and friends, share a meal or a bottle of wine, got to a party or partake in festive occasions, or take my wife and my two left feet dancing. And sometimes it’s good to push myself and try something I’ve never done — like zip-lining. 

Traveling and visiting places I haven’t been are on the list. They’ve got beaches in Bora Bora, architecture in Rome, restaurants in Paris, pilsner in Munich. What fun to blast a sports car down an Autobahn (although not after the beer in Munich). There are many places I want to see over the next decade, so the key is not to put it off, just plan it and go, because if not now, when?

But it doesn’t always have to be big. The best things in life are free, right? Simple pleasures like walking along the Seawall, feeding the birds, patting a dog, finding a parking spot right where I need one, making that yellow light, enjoying a good cup of coffee, and watching buds turn to blooms. 

I love what I’ve got going on, spending time in a made-up world with my imaginary friends part of the time, and living large in the real one the rest of the time. Yeah, give me ten more years of that.

Ten Years Ahead

Wish list for next 10 years of life:

By Terry Shames

At Left Coast Crime last week I was on a panel that I instigated called It's Now or Never: Late in Life Authors & Protagonists. We were a panel  of women who were either “older” when we started our writing careers or wrote books about older protagonists. Apparently the organizers couldn’t find men in that category—or at least not men who would admit to being older. Not only do I write a protagonist who is “late life,” but I am an (ahem) older author. So looking ten years in the future is hazy. I certainly I hope I’m still around and enjoying life in ten years, but I have to be realistic—in the past few years I have had a few friends with serious illnesses, and a few who died; and they didn’t die young.

There’s another element to this “wish list.” I have had a wonderful, amazing life. I have reached many goals that I never thought were attainable. So it almost feels profligate to wish for more. So the things I wish for are few, if not simple:

1)     Continued good health. I have been ridiculously lucky with my health (where’s the wood?). I work out and eat well—but as well all know, that doesn’t guarantee anything. I few years ago a surgery gone bad left me with permanent damage in my dominant arm and hand. It’s a small problem, and one I can cope with. But it made me aware of the risky business that we call life.

2)     Write many more books. I hope my creative side doesn’t wane. I think of people like Ruth Rendell, who published up to the end of her long life. Not that I can compare myself to her in terms of her writing, but I’d like to think I can continue to come up with good stories that entertain people.

3)     Wait! I said simple. Well, this one is a little more ambitious: More travel for pleasure. I realized recently that becoming a published author meant less travel just for fun, and a lot of travel for business—not that it isn’t fun; but it’s different. I want to go to the Galapagos Islands. I want to go back to Africa. I want to see Budapest and Prague, and Vienna.  Iceland. And another trip to see my beloved Florence, where I was fortunate to live for 18 months.

4)     Another one that isn’t so simple: I want to sell a lot more books. I want to be more “successful.” It’s a daunting task to promote and write at the same time. I envy those writers who began being published when they were younger. They not only have a lot more time ahead of them to write a wide range of books, but they also are more savvy about the world of technology and the world of marketing and promotion. And even if they don’t know much about it, they have plenty of time to learn. I always feel as if I’m playing catch-up, trying to write all the books I have swimming in my head, and still having to figure out how the world of promotion works.

There’s a question that sometimes pops up: If you knew you would die in a year, what would you change? My answer? I’d keep the writing, blow off the promotion, and use the time I save from doing that to inhale more of the wonderful world—with friends and family.