What Does Brad Parks Blog Title Even Mean?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: What can I say. Brad Parks is incorrigible.  And he likes it when we say that, so we try not to say it, but yet, it’s true.

Incorrigible Yang to Hank’s Yin

By Brad Parks

The following is a confession that would no doubt be cheered, if dubiously, by many of my ex-girlfriends; and probably be questioned, even more dubiously, by my wife.

But here goes:

         

I finally wrote a book that helped me get in touch with my feelings.

         

Really. It’s my sixth novel featuring investigative reporter Carter Ross, and it’s called THE FRAUD (though that should not bring into question the sincerity of this confession).

         

I realize that as a guy and a thriller writer, I’m not supposed to admit I even have feelings. But if you’ll permit it, I’d like to recline on the Reds’ couch and get in touch with my inner Love Actually watcher.

         

Please understand, I was a journalist for many years. I wasn’t allowed to have feelings other than, “Boy, I’m glad I filed that story on time.”

         

I got my start as a sportswriter, where the number one rule is: no cheering in the press box. Then I switched over to news, where having feelings was a kind of professional taboo. As reporters, we were supposed to be impartial arbiters of world events. Feelings didn’t enter into the equation.

And yet, wow, sometimes they would get to me. I can remember covering a triple homicide trial where the state’s lone witness tying the alleged killer to the crime was a woman who only spoke up six months later, and only because she had been arrested on other charges. She admitted to being high on heroin at the time she saw the shooter, but she thought the guy’s last name was Scott, and that his first name started with a T.

         

The cops ran off a book with mug shots of all 53 T Scotts in their system. The woman looked at the first page and said, “That one.”

         

By that capricious accident of the alphabet—and because the cops were looking for any excuse to clear a triple homicide off their books—a man named Taqwi Scott was charged with three murders he clearly did not commit. He spent more than a year of his life in jail waiting for his day in court.

         

The only greater tragedy was the poor victims’ families. They had to watch this farce of a trial knowing their only shot at getting justice for their loved ones was gone long before the 45 minutes it took the jury to return a not guilty verdict.

         

When I got back to the newsroom that day, I was righteously outraged. I also had editors who recognized my anger and knew it had no place in the newspaper. The story I wrote was edited beyond recognition and buried on the county page. I begged to do a follow-up but was told to move on.

         

So I did.

         

Fast forward to 2013, to ten days before Christmas. A young lawyer named Dustin Friedland was shot and killed during a botched carjacking at The Mall at Short Hills. It was a terrible, tragic crime and because it happened at the most high-end shopping complex in one of the wealthiest towns in America, it became national news.

         

The reward for information leading to the capture of his killers grew to $41,000. After an exhaustive police manhunt, the band of carjackers responsible was tracked down and arrested.’

         

The next day—nine days before Christmas 2013—a man named Naeem Williams was gunned down on the streets of Newark, less than ten miles away, in the same county as Short Hills. It was a terrible, tragic crime and because it happened in one of the poorest cities in America, which averages a hundred murders a year, no one noticed.

         

The reward for information leading to the capture of his killers was $10,000. In a legal system where we are all supposedly created equal, one person was deemed to be worth four times more than another. There was no great effort put into finding his killer, who was never caught. I was, once again, righteously outraged.

         

The difference is, I was no longer a journalist. I was a novelist.

         

So I started writing a book about two murders: one high-profile, the other ignored; one involving a white victim, the other involving a black victim.

        

It was a new experience for me, actually being allowed to have feelings as I wrote, and then channeling them into some of my characters. Perhaps not coincidentally, the characters were also facing new situations in their lives that provoked emotional responses. Carter Ross’s girlfriend is pregnant. The editor-in-chief at his paper gets sick. I actually let Carter cry in one scene.

       

And while I’m sure Carter would say he was just having an allergic reaction, there’s no question to emotion in some of the scenes made it a better book. When my Kirkus review came out, and it called this novel “more deeply felt that Carter’s first five cases,” I don’t mind admitting I was thrilled. (So was my agent, but that’s another matter).

         

I realize that when it comes to writing with feeling, many of the Reds—and their regular visitors—are nuclear scientists who have learned to generate heat by splitting the atom, while I am still the chimpanzee who accidentally discovered fire.

        

So I’m curious to hear about your experiences: What role does has real-life emotion played in your fiction? How have your feelings informed your work?   

HANK: And see above for my additional question: What does the title of this essay even mean? Hey, pssst.  Listen, Brad's on tour (check his schedule here) for his much-praised new book.(Which does sound terrific--cannot wait tread it!)  Why don't you go to one of his events..and ask him?  

Okay, dear Brad, teasing. 

**********************

Brad Parks is the only author to have won the Shamus, Nero and Lefty Awards. Now that he has made this confession, he is weeping into a handkerchief and reading a Nicholas Sparks novel. For more on Brad, visit www.BradParksBooks.com.

Brad Parks and the Moonlighting Dilemma

 DEBORAH CROMBIE: Here at JRW we are always thrilled to have a visit from the talented, erudite (take that, Brad!) and always entertaining Brad Parks! And Brad's topic today is one that is dear to my heart, as I've dealt with the same "Will They/Won't They and what the heck happens if they do?" dilemma in my own books.

First, here's a bit about Brad's new book, The Player--

When he hears residents of a Newark neighborhood are getting sick—and even dying—from a strange disease, investigative reporter Carter Ross dives into the story—so deep he comes down with the illness himself. With even more motivation to track down the source of the disease, Carter soon hits upon a nearby construction site. But when the project's developer is found dead, and his mob ties surface, Carter knows he's looking at a story much bigger—and with even more dangerous consequences—than an environmental hazard.
Back in the newsroom, Carter has his hands full with his current girlfriend and with the paper's newest eager intern, not to mention his boss and former girlfriend Tina Thompson, who has some news for Carter that's about to make tangling with the mob seem simple by comparison... 

It was a hard choice to pick just one quote from the praise for this book, but in the end I went with Booklist:

"Compulsively readable. . . Ink-stained heroes are a dying breed. Enjoy this one while you can."
   
But then I was already hooked just from the synopsis...

Take it away, Brad!

BRAD PARKS:

The show originally aired Sept. 20, 1977. It was the third episode in the fifth season of Happy Days, then one of television’s most popular programs, and it was given the innocuous title “Hollywood: Part 3.”

            By most measures, it was another rousing success for the franchise. It pulled a 50-plus share—these days, only the Super Bowl surpasses a number like that—and was watched by more than thirty million people.

            Sadly, it will not be remembered for any of that.

It will be remembered as the one where Fonzie jumped the shark.

Thanks to YouTube, which assures that no moment of ignominy is ever lost, you can judge the scene’s merits for yourself. Go ahead. I’ll wait. Just don’t get lost in shark attack videos for twenty minutes like I did. It’s only a 45-second clip…

 

… Okay, so first reaction: Wow, was that really a future Academy Award-winning director driving the boat?

Second reaction: Pretty bad, right?

Now, let’s be clear, I am theoretically here at Jungle Red to pimp a new book—it’s called THE PLAYER, it got some starred reviews, please buy it—but I am mostly here to pump the Reds and the rest of the salon dwellers for your collected wisdom about a writing problem I’ve been pondering.

But first back to the Fonz. As all except for a few iceberg-stranded Inuit know, that scene ended up inspiring the website, www.jumptheshark.com, which invited users to opine about the moment

their favorite shows passed their sell-by date. In the early days of the internet—we’re talking 1997 here folks—it quickly became a sensation.

While the site no longer exists, “jump the shark” has solidified its place in the modern lexicon to the point where it is so overused—do we really need to talk about when a politician has jumped the shark?—the phrase, itself, is in danger of jumping the shark.

But what I really want to explore is one of the most heartbreakingly common causes of JTS Syndrome: when two characters whose sexual tension has been a primary source of conflict in a long story arc finally get it on.

This sad turn of events is perhaps best captured by the eighties classic Moonlighting. When Dave and Maddie finally got together, a show that had Americans huddled around their 28-inch round-screen televisions went straight into the tank.

            Now, let’s be clear, since we’re all readers: book series can jump the shark, too. We can all think of authors who charmed us with their early work only to disappoint us later. But we’ll mostly be too polite (cough Janet Evanovich cough) to mention them.

            Nevertheless, I’ve been thinking about this a lot because of a writing dilemma I’m currently having. In THE PLAYER, the aforementioned fifth installment of my series featuring sometimes dashing investigative reporter Carter Ross, two characters who have been gravitating towards one another for quite some time end up getting even more enmeshed. (I won’t give away more, though all twenty-eight of my fans can probably guess who I’m talking about).

            The question is: what do I do now? In some ways, events have conspired to the point where it would be unrealistic for the characters not to get together.

            On the other hand, if I let them have their Happily Ever After, would their matrimony lead to shark-jumping?

            Now, I’d like to think the relentless pacing of my novels, the layers of suspense that I build—to say nothing of my deathless prose—make it impossible for the series to even come close to hurtling any cartilaginous marine fishes.

But I bet the writers at Moonlighting thought that, too. And look how that turned out.

            Clearly, the consummation of a longstanding relationship can be done well. Going back to the television world, I think of the show Castle. When Richard Castle and Kate Beckett got together at the beginning of this season, the show’s intensely loyal following—which I count myself among—braced for the worst. Yet we’ve been rewarded with another marvelously entertaining season. The interplay between Castle and Beckett has changed, obviously, but it’s as delightful as ever.

The question is: what separates Castle from Moonlighting? How do you get two characters together yet still keep it interesting? Do you have to find a way to keep some kind of dynamic tension between the lovers? Or do you run the risk of jumping the shark even more, like Moonlighting did when it had Maddie marry some dude she had just met on a train in a lame attempt to keep her and Dave apart?

Help me Reds! You’re my only hope.

Brad Parks is the only author in history to have won the Shamus, Nero and Lefty Awards. His latest book, THE PLAYER, received starred reviews from Kirkus and Library Journal. RT Book Reviews made it a Top Pick for March, saying, “Parks has quietly entered the top echelon of the mystery field.” The Reds know this is absurd, since Brad has never done anything quietly in his life. Nevertheless, you can visit him at www.BradParksBooks.com.

DEBS: So, readers, tell Brad (and us!) what you think? (If you can tear yourself away from watching YouTube videos of the Fonz...) Is it possible to overcome the Moonlighting Syndrome?