Perseverance

By Brian Thiem: When I was in my MFA (Master of Fine Arts—Creative Writing) program ten years ago, I heard repeatedly that the most important trait of successful writers is perseverance. I was fortunate (lucky or blessed are also appropriate explanations) to be signed by a literary agent a month after graduation. Then a few months later, the amazing Paula Munier of Talcott Notch Literary Agency negotiated a three-book deal for the Detective Matt Sinclair series.

Over the next two years or so, I rewrote that first book and wrote two more for the series. I was well into writing the fourth book, when the publisher told me they were not interested in continuing the series. I was shattered. Reviews said the third book was the best, that Matt Sinclair had many more stories in him. I could’ve written more Matt Sinclair adventures for years.

I was reminded that the publishing industry can be fickle. Sometimes, when a series doesn’t hit the bestseller lists, publishers move on to another author. Paula told me to come up with a new series and start writing the first book for it.

So, I did. Authors often say that their ideas for a book begin with the question of, What If? I had been living in the Hilton Head area for two years and had been invited to join the sheriff’s Cold Case Team, a group of retired law enforcement professionals who met every month or so to look at a cold case—typically an unsolved homicide from years ago.

I thought: what if, instead of this group of old guys (and gals) doing their case review by reading the old reports and listening to an active sheriff investigator’s presentation, they took a more active approach? What if one of the “old” retired detectives was somewhat younger than the others, had moved to an “active adult” community (like where I live), and after his wife of thirty years suddenly died, he found he had no purpose in life? Then, what if there was a murder across the street from that retired detective, and he was asked to help out?

I had the premise for a story and a main character. I began writing. Over the next two years, I rewrote the story three times with the help of my agent and many fellow writers. I called it Spartina Island, based on the fictional setting I created. Paula pitched it to publishers but got no bites. Again, I was crushed. But I did what Paula suggested. I came up with a new idea and wrote another book. She pitched it, and again, got no bites from publishers. Paula suggested I write a stand-alone novel. I came up with a new idea, this time about a main character who wasn’t a cop. I spent the next year or two writing it, and then—you guessed it—no interest from publishers.

I thought long and hard about giving up. But Paula wouldn’t have it. She thought the market had changed and with a rewrite, Spartina Island would be a hit series. I revised it. And waited. And waited.

Two months ago, I signed a contract for a four-book series with Severn River Publishing. The first book will be The Mudflats Murder Club, a rewritten version of that novel I started seven years ago. It will come out in the summer of 2025, followed shortly thereafter by book #2 in the series, of which I’m about halfway through the first draft.

Today, I totally understand why those professors, all published authors, in my MFA program told me perseverance was the most important trait of a writer. If I had given up after all those rejections, I would not be looking forward to sharing another four books with readers.

So, to those unpublished writer friends out there, don’t give up. If you write a book that no agent wants to take on, or no publisher wants to publish, write another one. If that goes nowhere, write another one. And keep the old ones, because as publishing trends change and of them could be rewritten and become the next #1 bestseller.

Yes, Cops Can Do That

by Brian Thiem: I recently read a rant on social media by a man who said cops cannot ever enter his house—his castle as he called it—without his permission or a valid search warrant. Since I learned years ago to never get into an argument over social media—a waste of time—I scrolled to the next posting about cute kittens and puppies.

However, there are several exceptions to the search warrant or consent requirement, one of which is Exigent Circumstances. My brother and sister law enforcement officers already know this, but my fellow authors may be able to use this in their books.

When I was a young patrol officer early in my career, I was dispatched on a 415f call (disturbance—family fight). The dispatcher said the caller heard a man beating his wife in the house next door. My partner and I pulled up to the address, and a man came out of the house where the disturbance was reported to have occurred.

We told the man why we were there, and the man told us his wife was fine and we could leave. I advised him that we had a duty to see his wife and ensure she was okay. Since we were trained to keep spouses apart when investigating a family fight, both for the safely of the parties involved as well as the officers, I told the man to remain outside with my partner while I went to the house to check on his wife.

The man ordered us to leave his property and told us we could not enter his house without a search warrant, followed by, “I’m a lawyer, and I know the law.”

I calmly explained the law dealing with exigent circumstances, the public safety exception to a search warrant requirement, but he again ordered us to leave his property unless we had a search warrant. I instructed him to remain outside with my partner. I began to walk around him, and he pushed me back toward the street.

My partner and I handcuffed him, and I went to the house, where I found his wife suffering from a broken nose and fractured orbital bone around one of her eyes. We called an ambulance and arrested the husband for aggravated spousal battery, assault on a police officer, and resisting an officer in the performance of his duties.

The law often (but not always) makes sense in practical terms. It would be impractical in a situation such as this for the officers to leave the scene, call in a detective from home to type a search warrant, and find a judge at night for a signature, all while someone might need urgent medical care. Nor would it be practical for to leave the man at the scene to potentially do more harm to his wife until we had ensured she was okay.

By the way, the husband was visibly intoxicated when we encountered him, and he was a corporate attorney, with no criminal law experience, beyond some basics in constitutional law search and seizure that he had learned decades earlier in law school.

Crime Fiction: Sort Of

by Roger Johns

Thinking I would broaden my reading horizons, I branched out, during the last year or so, taking in more of what generally falls into the category of literary, or mainstream fiction. Looking back on my recent reads, however, I’ve become concerned. Time after time, no matter how hard I try, I seem to end up back where I started—reading crime fiction. Although I think the fault lies less with me and my book selection methods, and more with the fact that so much of what is written involves crime. Two books stand out.

The first is Demon Copperhead, by Barbara Kingsolver, of Poisonwood Bible fame. This is a modern retelling of David Copperfield, set in the recent past in Appalachia, against the backdrop of broken families, the foster care system, and the social and economic forces that conspire to keep entire insular populations from getting their knees over the rim of a stable life. Unlike traditional crime fiction, where the point of the story is to solve a crime or to stop some terrible event from unfolding (technically, a thriller), in this one, the focal point of the story isn’t a singular crime, but one where crime is a more pervasive phenomenon against which seemingly normal events occur. As if a certain level of acceptable criminal behavior is constantly simmering just below the threshold of what would attract the full attention of whatever law enforcement system is operating inside the story—until someone crosses a line. Until someone upsets a delicate equilibrium. But, how, exactly, to characterize the contending forces in the equilibrium? Between right and wrong? Moral and immoral? Legal and criminal? Need and want?

Just like real people, the characters are complicated, so these forces can be hard to pin down, and they’re often interrelated and interdependent, and the characters seem resigned to live out their lives in a hazily defined borderland that blurs the boundaries between competing visions of social order. And it’s this very ambiguity that makes this story so compelling. It’s told from the point of view of a child whose launch in life begins with a doomed-from-the-get-go family, followed by a second stage fueled by a brutal stint in the foster care system. It’s crime fiction where crime isn’t the point of the story, in a sense it simply is the story.

The second notable book from my foray into non-crime crime fiction is Same Bed Different Dreams, by Ed Park. Imagine a book composed of three independent narratives, A, B, and C. Each set in a different time and place, but each of which regards elements and characters from the other two a factual or important in some way. One narrative chronicles the machinations of the fictional Korean Provisional Government—an entity that arose in response to the seemingly endless depredations of other nations on the Korean Peninsula. Another chronicles the adult life of a Black fighter pilot, who became a POW during the Korean War, then an electronics store owner in upstate New York, then a science fiction writer, then a patient in a residential psychiatric hospital. The third narrative tells the story of a Korean-American corporate executive who works for an earth-swallowing, soul-erasing tech company, unsure whether his ambivalence about assimilation into American culture is driven more by his own hesitant embrace of America or of America’s hesitant embrace of him.

If this sounds confusing, it’s not. The narratives are broken into pieces, the pieces are presented in strict rotation, their interconnections are clearly laid out, and the writing quality is superb. If you’ve read any of David Mitchell’s work (Cloud Atlas, The Bone Clocks, Slade House), it’s that good. It’s a monumental feat of imagination, many years in the making.

The crime elements of this book occur mainly in the narrative about the Korean Provisional Government, and are mostly in the form of assassinations of actual historical figures, and the crimes of war itself. Those committed during the fight, and those that seem to become normalized in the chaos that follows from the destruction of lives, families, and social and political institutions. The point of the book seems to be that the crimes of the past, great and small, echo endlessly into the future, affecting the lives of those connected to the criminals (as in the style of Amy Tan), as well as legions of others, even whole societies and countries with little or no direct connection to the events in question.

Neither of these books are crime fiction, in the traditional sense of that term, but they are crime fiction, nevertheless, and they are both excellent.

ROGER JOHNS is a former corporate attorney, a retired college professor, and the author of the Wallace Hartman Mysteries, Dark River Rising and River of Secrets, from St. Martin’s Press. He is the 2018 Georgia Author of the Year (Detective·Mystery Category), a two-time Finalist for Killer Nashville’s Silver Falchion Award, and runner-up for the 2019 Frank Yerby Fiction Award. His short fiction has been, published by Saturday Evening Post, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Mystery Weekly Magazine, Dark City Crime & Mystery Magazine, After Dinner Conversation, and JOURN-E: The Journal of Imaginative Literature. Roger’s articles and interviews about writing and career management for new authors appear in Southern Literary Review, Writer Unboxed, Career Authors, and Southern Writers Magazine. Along with Kim Conrey, he co-authors the quarterly column “If You Only Have an Hour: Time-Saving Tips & Tricks For Managing Your Writing Career” for Page Turner, the magazine of the Georgia Writers Museum and the Atlanta Writers Club. Please visit him at: http://www.rogerjohnsbooks.com.

True Crime, Real Crime, or Crime Fiction

I have this aversion to true crime.

I’ve read a few true crime accounts and watched the popular documentaries out there on various streaming platforms. With few exceptions, they left me feeling put off. The accounts of the crimes were often exaggerated and built up the persona of the criminal as some sort of evil genius, or in the case of serial killers, how brilliant they must be to hide in plain sight and avoid law enforcement.

Ridgway, Bundy, and Dahmer

Worse yet are the accounts of the crime that are gruesome for shock value. Some true crime authors focus on the step by step of what the victim experienced during the event, which turns out to be little more than a reenactment for ratings. Splatter-porn. The sensational parts are emphasized and the human element–the death or trauma experienced by a victim, is used to build up the character of the killer, or the human toll is discounted all together in pursuit of a grand tale of an elusive killer.

I recently had this very discussion with Paul Holes, retired Contra Coast County Crime Investigator, and non-fiction author. Paul’s account of the hunt for the Golden State Killer, Unmasked: My Life Solving America’s Cold Cases, told the inside story of the struggle to identify a serial killer responsible for over a dozen murders and fifty rapes. Paul took great care to tell the story, recognizing the brutal nature of the crimes, but didn’t settle on them as a mean to puff up the legend of the Golden State Killer. His story was primarily the struggle he experienced with the bureaucracy, red tape, and budget constraints that kept the investigation stalled. There were accounts of new technology that finally enabled a DNA profile of the Golden State Killer, and even that was nearly blocked by ego-driven politicians.

Most importantly, his story included the toll his investigation took on him, his family, and relationships. It’s often overlooked in true crime accounts.

Paul described his take on true crime as the distilled down essence of the crime for public consumption. What he, I, and others who served in law enforcement experienced was real crime. The in-your-face brutal truth. It’s raw and the trauma is real. The public doesn’t get that exposure to crime–and they shouldn’t. You can’t forget the fact that when you talk about a Bundy, Manson, or Ridgway, and their heinous acts, you’re talking about victims–mothers, daughters, and family members. When you glorify the killer, you’ve victimized them again. When you venture off into the real crime aspects exposing the actual gruesome actions, you are being truthful, but is that your story to tell?

There are a small handful of authors who pull off true crime and keep the victim’s story in mind when telling their tale of true murder and mayhem; Claire Booth, in her account to Taylor Heller in The False Prophet, and Lynn Chandler Willis’s account of a murder in a small North Carolina town, in Unholy Covenant manage to pull it off well.

I think I turned to crime fiction so I write the stories I need to tell–using bits and pieces from my experience behind the walls. Fictionalizing the story and changing it, I can write the crime without worrying about retraumatizing those involved. Someone’s brother, sister, or mother won’t have to read about their loved one. In my crime fiction, unlike real crime, the bad guy gets his–eventually. There’s justice in my world…

Roger Kibbe –The I-5 Strangler

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novels, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. His novels have been shortlisted or awarded the Lefty, Anthony, Silver Falchion, and the Public Safety Writers Award. Face of Greed is his most recent novel. Look for Served Cold and River of Lies, coming in 2024. You can find out more at www.jamesletoile.com

Police Manhunts

by Brian Thiem

We’ve recently seen several police manhunts on the nightly news and all over social media sites. People love following the news of a police hunt for an escaped prisoner or a mass murderer.

The bigger the crime and the more dangerous the suspect, the more chaotic it is to the cops on the ground. When multiple jurisdictions—local police, county sheriff, state police, federal agencies—get involved, it requires strong management and coordination to accomplish the law enforcement goals.

The police goals with a manhunt are the same as for minor crimes: protect the public, gather evidence for future prosecution, and arrest the suspect. When the risk to the public grows every moment the suspect is at large, the communities involved demand and deserve the best. The first principle for success of a major law enforcement operation is unity of command, and that is even more critical when an operation involves hundreds of personnel and multiple jurisdictions.

Command Post:  A command post should be established as soon as the magnitude of the operation is recognized. The command post size, composition, and location often changes over time. I remember one critical incident I worked in Oakland, where the initial command post consisted of a sergeant and officer with a clipboard, radio, and cell phone on the trunk of a patrol car. Days later it had grown to a half dozen bus-sized mobile command posts and scores of people. And that didn’t include the hundreds of personnel in the field.

When multiple jurisdictions are involved, one agency must be the lead agency, and their senior ranking command officer on the scene should be designated the incident commander. Failure to do so can result in a situation like occurred at the Uvalde school shooting, where even days after the incident, no one admitted to being in charge.

Investigations: Investigators working at the crime scene(s), on phones and computer systems, and interviewing people in the field, are all collecting information. In the case of the recent mass shooting in Lewiston, Maine, investigators would talk to friends, co-workers, and relatives of the shooter, to learn everything possible about him and where he might be. They’d also be processing the crime scenes and interviewing witnesses and surviving victims, not only for information about the shooter, but also for future prosecution if the suspect is arrested.

Tactical Teams: Teams of uniformed officers, SWAT teams, and federal tactical teams are needed to search areas where the suspect was seen and locations where he may have fled to, such as the homes and businesses of close friends and relatives. As tips of possible sightings come into the command post, officers must be sent to check them out. The command post must analyze each tip and detail the appropriate response, which may be a two-officer team to a house where a neighbor heard a noise in the backyard, or a forty-officer platoon with SWAT teams, K-9 units, and helicopters to a location where the suspect’s getaway car was spotted.

Media Liaison: As the law enforcement response grows during major incidents, so does the media presence. A dozen or more media outlets will compete for information from the police command post. Often numerous politicians—mayors, city council members, governors, and even U.S. senators—arrive and demand immediate information from the command post. Then, they will compete with each other for facetime with the media’s cameras.

The media must be kept informed, yet controlled. The police cannot allow the media and politicians to distract them from their mission, which does not include feeding the insatiable appetite of the media. A media liaison officer or team should be designated as the sole point of contact for the press.

Still, the police cannot ignore the media. We need them to disseminate public safety information—area evacuations or shelter in place—and requests for citizens to provide tips about the suspect or his location. The media liaison officers must keep in mind that the subject of the manhunt likely has access to news reports via TV, radio, and social media, so anything they tell the media, they are also telling the suspect.

A manhunt the size of the one in Lewiston is demanding on everyone involved, from tactical officers who spend hours or days searching houses and heavily wooded areas, to those working in the command post sorting through thousands of tips. Through teamwork, courage, and perseverance—and a bit of luck—the police usually locate the suspect.

The Detective’s Primary Weapon

by Brian Thiem

I know that some of my mystery writer friends struggle over whether their police detective characters should carry a Glock or Sig Sauer. Or to make them old-school and have them carry a .357 magnum or a Dirty Harry-ish .44 magnum.       

Real world police detectives certainly carry a handgun, handcuffs, and other tools of the trade, but our primary “weapon” is a pen. Ah, yes, how very boring. Since we write fiction and want to keep our readers engrossed with action, it’s okay to have your detectives race to the murder scene, screech to a stop, leap from their cars, draw their handguns, and…

But in the real world, I’d park my unmarked car at the homicide scene, step from my car, pull a fresh legal pad from my portfolio, and immediately begin taking notes. Yes, I took notes on a legal pad, not a pocket notebook like the TV detectives use. In the real world, homicide detectives know their job is to identify and arrest the responsible, but the ultimate objective is the prosecution and conviction of the killer.

Years ago, an author wrote a true crime book about one of my murder cases. During his research, he interviewed a criminal defense lawyer who had defended (unsuccessfully by the way) men on several of my murder cases. That lawyer said I investigated my homicides as if a defense attorney were sitting on my shoulder. He was right in a way. I started every case, from the moment the phone rang, focused on ensuring my investigation was so tight that twelve out of twelve people sitting on a jury would agree the man I identified and arrested was guilty. And that included detailed notes and an accurate and thorough investigative report.

When I arrived at the scene, unless the killer was wearing handcuffs in the back of a patrol car and telling officers why he killed the victim (I dreamed of murder cases like that), I was careful to keep a totally open mind. At this stage of an investigation, I was primarily a gatherer of information. The formulation of theories should only happen later, after an abundance of evidence.

I would talk to the patrol supervisor, normally a sergeant, who would tell me the basics of what occurred and what all the officers on the scene had done before my arrival. I’d speak to the evidence tech (called a crime scene tech, CSI, etc. in some places), who would walk me through the scene and point out evidence. Then I would view the body, if it was still there.

The whole while I’d take notes of what I saw and what people said. Those notes would later be the basis for my typed report, and I’d use that report to refresh my memory of the investigation when I testified in court, often years later.

I know that we mystery authors must keep the action moving in our stories, and no reader wants to read pages and pages of the detective taking notes or writing reports, but I like to maintain a certain level of authenticity in my stories. Therefore, my detective will carry a full-size notebook. He might even carry a second pen just in case the first one runs dry because he will use that pen a whole lot more than his gun.

Crime Writers Conference With A Twist

I recently had the opportunity to attend the 18^th annual Public Safety Writers Association Conference in Las Vegas. The difference between this conference and others writer’s retreats is that PSWA members are largely current and former first responders, police, fire, dispatchers, search & rescue, and corrections types like me. PSWA is a wonderful resource for authors who write crime fiction because these members are more than willing to share their experience.

Getting those details right is an important part of bringing a level of authenticity to your work that savvy readers demand. Get it wrong and you’ve pulled the reader out of the story you’re trying to tell. The difficult thing for many authors, if they don’t have the background, is finding a reliable source for this kind of information. Many of the online “experts” dole out sketchy and downright terrible advice to authors searching for the correct policy or procedure. PSWA members personally cover nearly every aspect of first responder work.

There were several highlights for me this year, including a fantastic presentation by R.J. Beam, a crime lab expert, who gave attendees a crash course in what’s new in the forensic side of investigative tools. There are so many forensic tools available now that I know I’m going to include in my work.

Former FBI profiler Pete Klismet provided attendees with an interesting look at what profilers look for in a case and what they can read from the scene, and what the victim can tell them. Really interesting stuff and nothing like the image television crime dramas would have the typical viewer believe. Pete passed on some great insight on reading the crime scene and what the killer may have left behind.

Jo Wilkins helped aspiring authors in the group navigate some of the barriers and pitfalls in publishing their work.

I was honored to present a session on what really happens in prison and it’s nothing like Orange is the New Black. It’s a different world in there and it runs on a unique culture and challenging issues for correctional staff. There’s a reason prison staff have higher PTSD rates than Gulf War vets, higher divorce rates, more alcoholism, and domestic violence–there’s a lot of accumulated trauma from the job.

There were panels covering many aspects of crime and investigation as you’d expect, but there were great sessions on the craft of writing, marketing, navigating social media, and publishing, making for a well-rounded experience for authors at every level attending the conference.

The PSWA sponsors a writing competition and awards authors for their published and unpublished work. It’s a bit special when “cop writers” recognize your work as meeting a very high standard. I was happy to see Frank Zafiro and Colin Conway receive awards for their novel, The Ride Along and for their short fiction. Thonie Hevron earned top spot for her unpublished novel, Without Due Caution (which has now been published by Rough Edge Press). I was thrilled to bring home the top prize for published novel for Dead Drop and an award mention for a short story, “Convict Code” published in the Tattered Blue Line anthology, edited by Frank Zafiro.

If you’re an author writing in the crime fiction world, I strongly suggest you look into the PSWA and consider joining and attending their annual conference. You can find out more at https://policewriter.com Don’t handcuff yourself by getting the details wrong.

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novel, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. Black Label earned the Silver Falchion for Best Book by an Attending Author at Killer Nashville, and he was nominated for The Bill Crider Award for short fiction. Dead Drop garnered a Lefty and Anthony Award nomination, and a PSWA win for best novel. Devil Within is his most recent novel. Look for Face of Greed, coming in 2023. You can find out more at www.jamesletoile.com

Undercover vs. Plainclothes Officers

By Brian Thiem

It’s no wonder that after watching cop shows on TV, some crime fiction authors use the terms “plainclothes” and “undercover” interchangeably. On “Blue Bloods,” Danny Regan hangs out with uniformed officers at a homicide scene, dressed in a coat and tie (plainclothes, not undercover attire) at the beginning of the show. Later on, he’s sitting in his police Dodge Charger (unmarked car—not an undercover car) down the street from drug dealers doing surveillance (more of an undercover role). Sorry, Danny, but those dope dealers made your car two blocks away and every crook in the precinct knows your face, so there’s no way they’d sell drugs with you there.

Then there’s the iconic TV show from the 1980s, “Miami Vice.” What cop didn’t want to work undercover in Miami, wear a white sport coat over a pastel tee shirt, and drive a Ferrari and a cigarette boat? In episode after episode, Sonny made multi-kilo drug buys (an undercover operation), then chased the bad guys through the streets of Miami in his Ferrari (or sometimes through the river in his cigarette boat) and got into blazing gun battles. Sorry, Sonny, you just blew your cover and burned your six-figure U.C. car, so both are useless for undercover purposes in the future and the department is sending you back to uniform.

Plainclothes officers are different from undercover officers. Plainclothes officers dress in something other than the police uniform, typically business attire. They may be assigned admin work (Records, Personnel, etc.) or detectives. They are not hiding their police identity, although they are not trying to be visible to the public as a uniformed patrol officer would.

Undercover officers, on the other hand, must look and act the role they are playing, be it a drug user to buy narcotics or a street hooker to entice “johns” to offer money for a sex act. Most departments have a policy—When you’re working undercover, you stay undercover. If that policy is not adhered to, disaster can occur, such as occurred years ago in Oakland when an undercover officer was killed by fellow officers when the U.C. officer drew his gun to make an arrest and responding officers didn’t recognize him as a cop.

After several years in uniform (patrol and special operations), I was transferred to Vice Narcotics. For a year and a half, I portrayed a drug addict to buy drugs, a “john” to receive solicitations from prostitutes, a weapons dealer to convince I.R.A. (Irish Republican Army) members to buy guns from me, and a hired killer when the department got a tip that a woman was looking for someone to kill her husband, among other roles.

When I showed up for my first day in Vice as a clean-cut, freshly out of uniform officer, my sergeant had me dress in a coat and tie, gave me the keys to an undercover Porsche (an older 911 from a used car rental agency we used, nothing like the Miami Vice Ferrari), and sent me to different downtown hotel bars to act like a businessman on lunch break to see if the high-class hookers would solicit me or the bartenders would sell me some coke.

Most undercover roles required me to dress down—growing a beard and long hair and wearing jeans and tee shirt. Others required me to look like a more “normal” guy, like when conducting “weight-level” drug buys or infiltrating illegal gambling or high-class escort service operations. The key to undercover work is to look and act the role you’re trying to portray.

From Vice, I was promoted to sergeant and was assigned to CID (Criminal Investigation Division—a plainclothes assignment) for the next eight years, most of it working Homicide. I wore a suit or sport coat with a dress shirt and tie. I carried a handgun, extra ammo, handcuffs, and badge on my belt.

I was not pretending to not be a cop as I did when working undercover, but I could blend in and not be identified as a police officer in many environments, such as among office workers in downtown Oakland or around hundreds of suit-wearing lawyers in the courthouse. When I climbed out of my unmarked Crown Vic at a homicide scene at 2 a.m., there was no mistaking me for a detective. Even away from my gray four-door sedan—the same make and model as the patrol cars except it wasn’t painted black and white and didn’t have a light bar and police markings—everyone knew I was a cop since I was the only white guy wearing a suit within miles.

After my years in Homicide, I was well known among the criminal element in the city and had appeared on the nightly news hundreds of times, so my days of working undercover were over. Just as well, because the department had no Ferraris in the undercover fleet and white sport coats worn over pastel tee shirts were by then out of style.

Writing Authentic Police Characters

By Brian Thiem

Dear Fellow Crime Fiction Writers, if you want to write authentic police characters, you should spend time with police officers.

I just returned home from the OPD940. To understand cops, you must first understand their language. Cops talk in numbers. In California, 211 means robbery and 187 means homicide. The Oakland Police Department uses the 9-code for radio transmissions. 940 means meet an officer. One might hear on the radio, “Three-L-Ten, nine-forty with Three-L-Twelve at Forty-fifth and Telegraph.”

The OPD940 is an annual reunion for retired Oakland police officers held at the Carson Valley Inn and Casino, about 40 miles south of Reno. Nearly 200 retired officers (and some non-sworn) and some spouses met last week for a two-day event, which included a reception Tuesday night and a more formal dinner Wednesday night.

Fellow writers, if you were able to be a “fly on the wall” for those two days, you’d learn a lot about the people you fictionalize in your books.

You’d learn cops have a sick sense of humor. Psychologists would say they use humor to deal with tragic episodes they’ve experienced. You’d hear a retired officer tell about the time he ran out of ammo during a gun battle at a hotel near the airport, which had numerous others in stitches. You’d hear another officer laughing so hard he’s nearly in tears as he describes the time he was attacked in a housing project and barely escaped with his life. And you’d see a group laughing hysterically when an old homicide detective tells how his partner nonchalantly flicked off brain matter that had dripped from the ceiling onto his wool overcoat at a gruesome murder scene.

You see, fellow writers, the more bizarre, the more tragic, the more frightening the event, the funnier the story becomes. Another thing about cops is they have excellent forgetters. You’d hear the homicide detectives talk about how much fun they had. They’d recant the stories of crashing through a door to arrest a murder suspect after a month-long investigation and the joy of telling the mother of a murder victim they finally arrested her son’s killer. Patrol officers will reminisce about the highspeed chase of an armed robbery suspect and taking him into custody.

But the homicide detectives forget about the strings of nights they went without sleep, the frustration of doing everything imaginable to solve a case but to no avail, and sitting on the witness stand for days while being accused of incompetence, corruption, and dishonesty. And the patrol officers forget the cold nights standing in the rain for hours on a perimeter position as K-9 officers searched for a rape suspect, only to discover he broke the perimeter hours before it was established. Psychologists will tell you that if cops remember all the bad stuff, they’d never survive a career—heck, they’d probably not survive a year.

Fellow writers, you’d learn that cops show their affection to other cops by busting their chops. They tease each other about anything—the divorces, the bar flies they went home with, the prisoner that escaped from the back of their patrol car, or leading the squad in the number of I.A. complaints. If you could’ve observed these retired cops during the two days of golf, you might’ve felt sorry for them after hearing them berate each other with, “Is that as far as you can hit the ball,” “Next time, try hitting it in the fairway,” “I didn’t know anyone could go an entire round and never sink a putt.” But, fellow writers, if these cops didn’t love each other, they’d say nothing, because that’s the way they treated the sergeants and lieutenants that they didn’t like.

You’d also realize that cops are great liars. You would’ve heard numerous cops telling others they haven’t aged a day since they retired and that they were the finest officer to ever wear the badge. The U.S. Supreme Court even ruled that police are permitted to lie to people. “You might as well confess,” the detective will tell the suspect, “because we have your prints on the murder weapon,” as the detective hopes the suspect was not wearing gloves. Or “Yes, sir,” the officer says to the drunk driver who crashed his car into a row of parked cars, “If you have a seat in the back seat of my patrol car, I’ll give you a ride home,” because the officer will lie to avoid fighting a drunk into handcuffs if it can be avoided.

Beyond the laughing, joking, and teasing, you’d see some serious moments. You’d hear cops reflecting on the deaths of brothers and sisters, some that they lost in the line of duty and others by things brought on by the job. You’d hear officers say they’re glad to see the officer who was given a disability retirement after he killed someone in the line of duty but was at the reunion and doing okay.

You’d hear some apologies—a retired officer to his old sergeant for being such a pain in the butt to supervise some 30 years ago, or a sergeant to an officer for being too much of a hard ass. You’d hear people thank others for having their back in a life-and-death fight, an officer thanking a lieutenant for taking care of him when his wife left him to raise their two kids as a single parent. Fellow writers, you would not find one cop who missed the job, but they all missed the people—their brothers and sisters in blue—and some of the excitement that is part of police work.

One of our retired police chiefs said at the dinner, [we]

share a common bond of service with the Oakland Police Department…a bond that grows out of the fondness and respect that we have for each other, the experiences we have shared over the years, and for the common ground we have walked. More than that, though, it is a bond that has grown from the pride and the knowledge that we have served in an outstanding police organization, and we did a very tough job, in a very tough environment and we did it very well.

Fellow writers, I’m sorry you were not there, but maybe you can use something I shared here to make the police characters you write about a bit more authentic.

LEFT COAST CRIME — A RECAP

This past weekend I was fortunate to attend the annual west coast crime fiction conference called Left Cast Crime. The venue changes every year and the 2023 location was in Tucson, Arizona at the beautiful El Conquistador Resort Hotel.

It’s a tough life…

I know, it’s a sacrifice. Getting out of the Northern California rain, hail, and snow was a welcome break, but most important was the chance to reconnect with my crime fiction colleagues. Crime thrillers, suspense, traditional, private investigator stories, and cozy mysteries are well represented at the conference.

Left Coast Crime draws 500 or more authors and readers from across North America. In fact, our own Bruce Coffin ventured out from the far east confines of Maine and attended in 2020 when the event was held in San Diego. That was the year when everything hit pause. After less than a day the conference was cancelled because of this new thing called COVID. We all scrambled to make flight arrangements home…

Last year was better in Albuquerque, New Mexico was better (slightly–the city hadn’t fully reopened after the pandemic) and Tucson was a breath of fresh air.

At many conferences, fiction with a law enforcement edge is often overlooked. But, I’m pleased to report this year the police procedural novel where a detective, sheriff, or police officer is the central character, was well represented.

In fact, DEAD DROP was one of two police procedural titles nominated for the Lefty Award for Best Mystery Novel of the Year. My Detective Nathan Parker series shoulder to shoulder with Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache. Not too bad for an old prison guy.

Wonderful to be nominated alongside these very talented authors.

L to R: Kristopher Zygorski (moderator) Kellye Garrett, Laurie R. King, some prison guy, Gigi Pandian, and Alex Segura (missing Louise Penny)

Even though a police procedural novel didn’t bring home the big prize, authors who represented the genre were easy to spot–back to the wall, sitting at a table so they could watch the door, and constantly scanning the room. No, that’s not exactly what I meant–there were a number of us who write stories where a cop, or detective drive the story.

Readers wanted to know about those stories and the real tales behind them. Authors who wrote police procedural novels attending Left Coast Crime included: Mark Begin, David Putnam, Shawn Wilson, Claire Booth, Terry Shames, Tracy Clark, Frank Zafiro, Colin Conway, Tim Moore, and Neil Plakcy. I’m sure there were others, but you get the idea–the cop-centered novel is far from dead. What’s even more interesting is the vast majority of these authors have real-life experience they bring to their written work.

What Writers get Wrong:

L to R: Holly West (moderator) Colin Conway, Tim Moore, Neil Plakcy, and Frank Zafiro

Call the Cops:

James L’Etoile (moderator), Mark Bergin, David Putnam, Terry Shames, and Shawn Wilson

If you’re planning your conference circuit for next year, consider adding Left Coast Crime. It’s small enough were you won’t get swallowed up in the crowds, and offers a packed program for authors and readers alike. The 2024 conference will be in in Bellingham, Washington, just outside of Seattle. Hope to see you there.

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novel, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. Black Label earned the Silver Falchion for Best Book by an Attending Author at Killer Nashville and he was nominated for The Bill Crider Award for short fiction. His most recent novel is the Lefty Award nominated Dead Drop. Look for Devil Within and Face of Greed, both coming in 2023.You can find out more at www.jamesletoile.com