[Note from Steve: I guess we’re in the summer doldrums, dog days of summer, or whatever you call it.  There have been a few weekends where there’s nothing worth seeing on the silver screen.  But this review is a little longer than most, so that’s compensation for you.]

Man from U.N.C.L.E.  Guy Ritchie, dir.  OK, forget that the Soviet Union never cooperated with anyone after World War Two.  (I’m reading a bio of Churchill—they didn’t cooperate much during the War either, but, in their defense, Papa Joe and his Bolsheviks were in survival mode.)  Forget that getting American, British, and Russian spies to work together was an impossible mission that even Mr. Phelps couldn’t handle.  And forget that the acronym is more of a stretch than saltwater taffy.  This movie is fun and has the right mix of Cold War tension, irony, and James Bond-like tongue-in-cheek not to have to depend on the nostalgia factor from the TV series.  Consider it a prequel to that series.  The film’s much better than the recent Mission Impossible film.

Some reviewers didn’t like the acting.  I reveled in it, but I understood why those reviewers said that: they were channeling the TV series.  Like the restart of the Star Trek franchise or Mission Impossible films, you have to put aside any preconceptions about what the film should be and just sit back and enjoy the fun.  The acting was spot on.  Like USA’s White Collar, Solo is an ex-thief in this version, turned into a CIA spy via the same conditions—avoiding jail time—and Henry Cavill plays the part with perfect aplomb.

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From yesterday’s reviews and previous ones, readers of this blog might have noticed that I’ve binged on a few historical mysteries and thrillers lately.  There are also a few on “Steve’s Bookshelf” too (Deaver’s Garden of Beasts, Follett’s Eye of the Needle, Boston Teran’s Gardens of Grief, and Edgardo Holzman’s Malena), a list of books I consider truly exceptional.  The later reads could be considered companions of the bio of Churchill I’m slogging through, 1000+ pages describing the PM’s war years and those that followed.  Like my character Castilblanco, I’m a history aficionado.

When I finished Schreiber’s Secret, I wondered two things.  First, I wondered if I could write something like that.  My muses (remember, they’re really banshees with tasers) were all over that.  They had challenged me to write a YA novel, so I studied examples and read all sorts of advice on how to do that and, after about two years, wrote The Secret Lab, a sci-fi mystery for young adults and adults who are young at heart.  Those muses then got on my case about writing a mystery—The Secret Lab didn’t count, so I wrote Teeter-Totter between Lust and Murder.  Now they’re after me to write historical fiction.

Second, I wondered, is it safer to write about the past than the future?  Stories set in the immediate future are a wee bit tricky.  I started The Midas Bomb just before the huge financial crash in 2008, so it seemed safe to pick 2014 as the story’s time.  That collapse occurred, of course, and we’re still feeling the aftermath, so now I’ll just have to say that the entire “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series” takes place on an alternate timeline.  That’s OK because there’s a fictional, temporal continuum from The Midas Bomb all the way to Come Dance a Cumbia…with Stars in Your Hand! and beyond.

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[Note from Steve: Here are two British historical mysteries today for you to consider.  Because I’m also reading a Churchill bio, I was looking for something related to WWII.   These two caught my eye, and I wasn’t disappointed.]

The Man Who Never Was.  Hoylton H. Smith, author (Promethean, 2013).  This is a great story—or should I say two stories, forty years apart, that come together?  In 1985, a cement foundation shifts at an abandoned coke plant in northern England uncovering a skeleton.  The Nazi version of a “dog tag” is found with the bones.  Wound marks on the neck indicate murder, so the local police are called in, but soon representatives from MI5 and MI6 arrive on scene.

It’s determined that the foundation was laid in 1945 just before the end of the war.  That harks back to the other story, the one involving a five-year-old English boy from a nearby town, his German friend in a POW camp nearby where Luftwaffe pilots are held, and espionage and intrigue on both the English and German sides that continues for years.

Historical mysteries can be frustrating as well as entertaining: it’s often not clear where historical truth ends and fiction begins if the author convincingly mixes the two.  This author dedicates his book to three of the principal characters, so there’s some truth in here somewhere.  That observation might be intriguing for some readers, but the story stands alone.  It’s entertaining, generally well done, and I enjoyed it.

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Maureen Dowd, NY Times columnist, recently quoted James Gleick, author, historian, and chronicler of how technology affects our lives.  (I remember him for his bio on Feynman.)  The quote: “Running for president is the new selfie.”  Considering the context in Ms. Dowd’s column, she was using it to refer to that most irascible and narcissistic of GOP candidates, Donald Trump, last seen in a revival-style meeting in the South (he even referred to Billy Graham).  But this post isn’t about Trump or even politics.  Instead, I’ll use the quote to explore the topic in the title.

One of the reasons I’m not active on Facebook anymore (there are many) is that I became tired of how incredibly narcissistic many FB users are.  People mounting internet soapboxes to send their harangues out to the world about myriads of causes from politics and religion to personal food choices is the least of it.  Zuckerberg and friends, super-narcissists in their own right, have tapped into a new 21^st century phenomenon (yeah, it started in the late 20^th): people are incredible narcissists, and it spans all generations, from Baby Boomers to Gen-Xers and Millennials.  Maybe they can’t have Warhol’s fifteen minutes of fame, but they can sure have their fifteen second chunks of it on FB—or so they think.

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[Note from Steve: To celebrate the hundredth edition of his newsletter, I think I’ll allow myself a double Jameson whiskey tonight—please join me.  I’ve been doing this a long time (writing the newsletter–I’m not an alcoholic).  I hope all of you enjoy it.  Maybe not the chest-thumping items, but I also try to keep readers and writers informed with my comments on the writing and publishing business.  I’m admittedly biased toward indie writing, but those traditionally published writers completely content with their lot in life don’t have to read this newsletter.  Others and indie authors and the reading public should—they’ll be entertained, at least.]

Item. More lies from the Times.  How many have read the NY Times article making Amazon look like a Chinese sweat shop?  While this isn’t surprising–the Times has a vendetta for all things Amazon and indie authors–an Amazon employee on Linked In Pulse shows how the Times twisted the truth to present a negative portrait of the huge company.  Unfortunately, his exposure of Times’ duplicity won’t get nearly the publicity that the Times’ article does, so too many people will walk away thinking the company is worse than Walmart.  By the way, the Times doesn’t have to write out an out lies.  They can omit facts and interview biased people and lie that way.  Fox News does it all the time.  I guess the Times isn’t any better than Fox News.  Their motto, “All the news that’s fit to print,” should certainly be rewritten.  I’m ready to cancel my subscription.  I already throw away their touted Book Review without looking at it, knowing that what all they tell me there are lies by omission and bias.  There are a few honest newspapers out there–the Times isn’t one of them.

I’m not an apologist for Amazon–I have my own problems with the company, including still trying to recover an ebook that I paid for that customer service has denied me.  My experience with Amazon can be summarized with that old movie title: The good, the bad, and the ugly.  You’ve read about some of my experiences in these pages and blog posts.  I don’t agree with their review system at all, for example.  But they’re not Walmart, and most certainly aren’t duplicitous like the Times.

So, why does the Times attack Amazon?  Because Amazon is the biggest seller of ebooks, many ebooks are indies, and the Times feels threatened by the whole reading revolution in America.  Consider their attacks the thrashing around of a dying dinosaur who happens to know that not only he but his whole species will soon disappear from the face of the Earth.  That little wooly mammal, the internet, will soon be lord of creation.  Should we have pity on the dinosaur?  Not me, because this one is bloodthirsty and out for Amazon’s blood.

Item. Inexpensive Kindles.  With the Kindle Fire at $99, I’m wondering what the Paper-Whites are going for?  I received my old Kindle Paper-White as a birthday gift years ago; wondered what I was going to do with it.  Now I it’s almost as necessary as my laptop.  Ignoring the gizmo’s conveniences, the idea of directly downloading ebooks without ever leaving my office is so important for my reading and reviewing, I can’t imagine being without it.

I usually don’t push products in this blog (I might attack them, like the Times), but an e-reader can be a game-changer for your reading enjoyment.  The Paper-White is the best; I’d forget about the Fire.  If you want a tablet, get something else.  OK, maybe you can combine the e-reader functionality with a tablet computer (e.g. the iPad), but just try reading an ebook on the beach with one, including the Fire.  The only glare advantage it has over a Galaxy or iPhone smart phone is that the fonts can be larger.  What about other e-readers?  Are they even supported anymore? B&N sold their Nook business, Sony’s history (they might be supporting them), and I don’t know about any others (readers can correct me), but Kindles were the first and are still going strong.

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[This series started last week.  If you haven’t already done so, you might want to read Part One.]

Have I convinced you book reading America is in trouble?  There’s another chapter in this story.  No, it doesn’t have anything to do with traditional publishers and their writers trying to kill indies.  For the most part, readers can ignore that problem (unless they’re also authors).  Moreover, I’ve dealt with that enough in this blog as have many other people (Joe Konrath, in particular).

No, in this second part, I claim what few avid readers are left are spoiled.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing.  Authors and publishers should spoil their readers (something traditional publishing fails miserably at).  Authors produce the raw product—think of bananas—and readers eat it up.  We’d have no market for the raw product if they didn’t do that.  (Traditional publishing adds a new wrinkle.  Like a certain banana company responsible for even the overthrow of governments, traditional publishing represents the middle people who exploit their workers, the writers, and exploit their consumers, the reading public.)

I want to spoil my readers with entertaining, meaningful stories, though.  Genre fiction writers are like the bards of old, providing entertaining stories at reasonable cost (indie writers, at least).  Maybe all writers fit into that role.  We should value every reader we have.  A satisfied reader will come back to buy my bananas.  A satisfied reader will tell other readers I sell good bananas.  Such a reader won’t like everything in my books (I don’t even like everything in my books, but I need to release my bananas or they’ll spoil).  Such a reader should complain to me about what s/he doesn’t like—I listen.  I might change my way of growing bananas.  But maybe not.

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[Note from Steve: This is the start of a series of short stories inspired by my favorite songs.  Some you might know, like this Billy Joel classic; others are a wee bit obscure (and possibly no longer available).  The stories are freebies for readers of this blog…until they appear in a short story collection, that is.  Enjoy!]

The Piano Man – Part Two

Copyright 2015, Steven M. Moore

Peterson walked into the interrogation room and nodded to the public defender.

“Hello, Nora,” said Bob Ortega.  “You’re looking well.”

She took a chair across from Walter Ellison and Ortega.  “I’m not in the mood for ass kissing today, counselor.”  She pushed a paper across to Ellison.  It had GGGEb written on it.  “Can you tell me what that means?”

Ellison studied it.  “Is this some kind of code?  I can’t break codes.  I always admired those guys when I was fighting in Afghanistan.  I can say it doesn’t make sense because G is repeated.”

Is this an act?  “Let’s say they’re musical notes.”

Ellison hummed.  “Yeah, that makes sense.  It’s the four opening notes of Beethoven’s Fifth.”

“Does it have any other meaning?”

“Hmm.  If I remember my Boy Scout merit badge work correctly and take it to signify dot-dot-dot-dash, that’s V.  In World War Two, I think Churchill used both the notes and V to rally the Brits—V for victory.”  He looked at Ortega.  “I thought we were going to discuss the charges against me.”

“We were,” said Ortega.  “Where is this going, Detective?”

“Do you know the name of your victim?” Peterson said to Ellison.

“You’re leading my client,” said Ortega.  “It’s incumbent upon the police and the DA to prove my client had something to do with this crime.  Use of the pronoun ‘your’ is tantamount to asking him to confess to a crime.”
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Item.  Go Set a Watchman.  Harper Lee’s first draft of To Kill a Mockingbird has enjoyed a lot of sales.  The publisher’s probably celebrating.  I compare this phenomenon to the Fifty Shades one: readers are curious.  But some are also irate.  Their beloved Atticus turned out to be a racist bigot and that genteel South isn’t so genteel.  I’m not surprised some people are turned off.  Some people don’t like to see real-life problems (racism in America, especially the South) portrayed in fiction, no matter which side of the problem they’re living on or their political outlook.  That’s why romance novels and cozy mysteries are so popular—they’re the equivalent of verbal Prozac.  Nothing wrong with that if that’s what gets you through the day or night—at least you’re reading and not watching mindless “reality shows” on the boob tube.

Item.  Don’t forget those bios.  I know many people who read these posts are more interested in what’s happening in genre fiction.  Next week I’ll mention James Gleick in a post—I read his interesting biography of Feynman, Nobel prize-winning physicist.  I’m currently reading a bio of Churchill.  It’s interesting to see that cultural icons had many of the problems and flaws seen in the general population.  It’s also interesting to see how they reacted to rascals around them, sometimes their reactions being equally rascally.

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I made some comments over on Scott Dyson’s blog.  (Scott’s post is the genesis for these ideas.)  I’d like to amplify on them here and next week.  To summarize bluntly: reading in America is in trouble.  Maybe in the rest of the world too, but it’s clear that we’re in trouble here.  Let’s consider some numbers.

I’ve upped my presence on Goodreads lately.  Forget Facebook; Goodreads is where the readers are.  Authors too, but they’re second-class citizens for the GR team, and justifiably so.  My goal is to entertain readers.  To the extent that authors are also readers, I can entertain them too, but my goal is to reach out to readers.  (Warning to authors: All those writing groups you belong to won’t help you find readers.)

I can’t help but notice the numbers on Goodreads.  Three of the groups I belong too are huge!  Goodreads Authors/Readers has 21,534 members last I checked (why isn’t it Readers/Authors?); the Mystery, Crime, and Thriller Group has 12, 682; and the Sci-fi and Fantasy Book Club has 14,187.  Given that there’s probably some overlap (me, for example), those numbers represent a PR and marketing teams’ dream.  (Warning to them: PR and marketing efforts are frowned upon in GR and are generally relegated to only certain sections of a group’s list of discussions…and justifiably so.)

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Steve’s Shorts: The Piano Man…Part One of Two

[Note from Steve: This is the start of a series of short stories inspired by my favorite songs.  Some you might know, like this Billy Joel classic; others are a wee bit obscure (and possibly no longer available).  The stories are freebies for readers of this blog…until they appear in a short story collection, that is.  Enjoy!]

The Piano Man – Part One

Copyright 2015, Steven M. Moore

            “Hey buddy, are you OK?”

Through the fog of his hangover Walter Ellison stirred and then awoke as the flashlight’s beam fell on his face.  “Go away.  I’m trying to sleep.”

He saw the beam sweep over the contents of his van.  Still hugging his keyboard with his left arm like his Angela, he pushed up with his right and saw a face in the penumbra behind the beam.  Shadowy lips moved.

“You can’t sleep here, bro.  The park closes at eight.”

Walter looked at his watch.  “That’s five hours from now.  I’ll leave by then.”

“Eight p.m., idiot, not eight a.m.  Come on buddy, we don’t want to haul you in for vagrancy.”

“I’m no vagrant.  I have a gig at the night club three blocks from here.  It’s a regular job.”

“But you can’t park your van here,” said the closest voice.

“What do you want?  Do you want me to drive around drunk so you can haul me in for DUI?  Or cause an accident where I kill someone?  FYI: I don’t like sleeping in jail.  Let me sleep it off here in peace.”

“OK.  Just this once.  The park opens at eight.  You’d better be gone by then.  And don’t come back.”

“Thank you, officers.  You’ll get your reward in heaven.”

Walter snuggled with Angela and went back to sleep.

***

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