CHRIS RICE COOPER BLOG is ART and HUMANITY Framed In The PhotoFeature Story

CHRIS RICE COOPER is a newspaper/fiction writer, poet, photographer, painter. CRC Blog is an INCLUSIVE & NON-PROFIT BLOG acknowledging ALL voices, ALL individuals, ALL political views, ALL philosophies, ALL religions including Islamism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Catholicism, Protestantism, Judaism, Agnosticism, Atheism. She has a B.S. in Criminal Justice & completed her workshops required for her Master’s in Creative Writing. She lives in St. Louis. CRC website http://chrisricecooper.com/

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

#62 Backstory of the Poem "Views From the Driveway" by Amy Barone

Chris Rice Cooper

caccoop@aol.com

https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by: Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

***This is the sixty-second in a never-ending series called BACKSTORY OF THE POEM where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC) focuses on one specific poem and how the poet wrote that specific poem. All BACKSTORY OF THE POEM links are at the end of this piece.

#62 Backstory of the Poem

“Views From the Driveway”

by Amy Barone

Can you go through the step-by-step process of writing this poem from the moment the idea was first conceived in your brain until final form?

I walked around with the title of the poem, “Views from the Driveway,” in my head and heart for months, maybe years before I wrote it. It was a piece I knew I had to write, as I carried the lines with me forever, based on haunting memories of childhood, carefree days, the colors of summer. (Right: Colors of Summer attributed and copyright permission granted by Christal Ann Rice Cooper for this CRC Blog Post Only)

Where were you when you started to actually write the poem? And please describe the place in great detail. I wrote the poem at my late mother’s home a month before she suffered a massive stroke. The tragedy tore apart our family and left my mother incapacitated for the next four years. Before that, on visits home to Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania from New York City to see family, I tended to read a pile of books and write, as it was back before social media and emails infringed on time. So I had the title for this poem brewing in my head. I wanted to use it as the title for my first poetry collection too. I remember sitting on the bedroom floor by a pale blue chaise lounge where my mother tended to read and rest, writing in

longhand. I didn’t travel with a laptop back then. Times were freer. I also brought the pad on which I was writing the poem to a neighborhood swimming pool one afternoon to refine it.
What month and year did you start writing this poem? I wrote “Views from the Driveway” on July 14, 2006.

How many drafts of this poem did you write before going to the final? (And can you share a photograph of your rough drafts with pen markings on it?) The poem wrote itself. It poured out of me and I don’t recall making many edits, perhaps some line edits, but the essence was there from the start.

Were there any lines in any of your rough drafts of this poem that were not in the final version? And can you share them with us? I don’t recall there being rough drafts of the poem. For my new poetry collection, We Became Summer, I did pull part of the last line in the first stanza.

The original version read, “Mastered the initial phases of love-making—visual stimulation—with neighbors, friends, passersby.” Adhering to the guideline of ‘show, not tell,’ I pulled the two words.

I now keep drafts of poems. I’m more of a prolific writer since I left the rat race six years ago. But the poems that write themselves, like “Views from the Driveway,” are gifts. They have a reason for being.

What do you want readers of this poem to take from this poem? I hope readers will relate to the idea of innocence in the poem—simple joys like a bike ride, childhood days with unending time and plans, the background of not-so-sweet realities that could be overcome with trips to an idyllic spot like my local duck pond, harboring no fear of the sun or cigarettes.

When we mature, dangers lurk and fear takes over to keep us healthy, secure, but we can always look back and draw energy and inspiration from earlier times.

Which part of the poem was the most emotional of you to write and why? I think the second line of the poem was challenging because my childhood wasn’t a completely sunny one.

Has this poem been published before? And if so where? The poem appears in my new poetry collection, We Became Summer, from New York Quarterly Books. The book was released in early 2018 and represents my first full-length collection.

It was also the title poem of my first chapbook, Views from the Driveway, published by Foothills Publishing in 2008.

I’m immensely grateful to all my book publishers, but Michael Czarnecki of Foothills came through when many writer friends told me I’d have to self-publish my first poetry book.

Anything you would like to add? I’m honored and delighted to share this poem and my insights on writing it at “Backstory of the Poem.”

I tend to be a universal poet who writes for a mix of readers, so I hope my work continues to reach a broad population thanks to your support.

Views from the Driveway

A small stretch of space afforded a window on the world,

the promise of escape from harmful clutches that lurked inside.

Freedom is a bicycle in red or turquoise or deep purple.

Grasping banana-shaped handlebars, one circled toward independence.

Mastered the initial phases of love-making with neighbors, friends, passersby.

On steamy sultry days, the surface shot off a pungent perfume.

Mixing with the sun’s scent on young skin and nubile grass clippings.

Summer in the suburbs had arrived. Butterfly days called for loose plans

and clandestine trips to the private duck pond

to roll down grassy hills and puff on stolen cigarettes.

Time answered most important questions.

And in the Europe of my mind—

breezeways are still in vogue,

families seek shade beneath Kelly green awnings,

girls dare to draw the sun with aluminum foil.

We still marvel at the sight of fireflies come dusk.

Amy Barone’s new poetry collection, We Became Summer, from New York Quarterly Books, was released in early 2018. Her chapbook Kamikaze Dance was published in 2015 by Finishing Line Press, which recognized her as a finalist in their annual New Women’s Voices Chapbook Competition. Foothills Publishing released her first chapbook, Views from the Driveway, in 2008. Her poetry has appeared in Café Review, Gradiva, Live Mag!, Muddy River Poetry Review, Paterson Literary Review, Philadelphia Poets, Sensitive Skin and Standpoint (UK), among other publications and anthologies. (Left: Amy Barone web logo photo Fair Use)

Barone spent five years as Italian correspondent in Milan for Women's Wear Daily and Advertising Age. She is a former board member of the Italian American Writers Association where she co-organized and promoted their monthly readings in New York City. Barone participates at spoken word events in New York City, New Jersey and Philadelphia. She is a professional member of PEN America Center and belongs to the brevitas online poetry community that celebrates the short poem. A native of Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, Barone lives in New York City. (Right: Amy Barone at a poetry reading on April of 2018. Copyright permission granted by Amy Barone for this CRC Blog Post Only)

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/amybarone

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amy.barone.98

New York Quarterly Books: http://www.nyqpoets.net/poet/amy_barone

Finishing Line Press:

https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/kamikaze-dance-by-amy-barone-nwvs-114/

Foothills Publishing: www.foothillspublishing.com/2008/id57.htm

Poets and Writers: https://www.pw.org/content/amy_barone

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/amybbarone

YouTube Channel:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCd6vCdxovWAqy1fB7NUuuSQ?view_as=subscriber

BACKSTORY OF THE POEM LINKS

001 December 29, 2017

Margo Berdeshevksy’s “12-24”

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2017/12/a-new-crc-blog-series-backstory-of-poem.html

002 January 08, 2018

Alexis Rhone Fancher’s “82 Miles From the Beach, We Order The Lobster At Clear Lake Café”

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/01/a-new-crc-blog-series-backstory-of-poem.html

003 January 12, 2018

Barbara Crooker’s “Orange”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/01/a-new-crc-blog-series-backstory-of-poem_12.html

004 January 22, 2018

Sonia Saikaley’s “Modern Matsushima”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-fourth-installment-of-new-crc-blog.html

005 January 29, 2018

Ellen Foos’s “Side Yard”

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/01/5-backstory-of-poem-sidewalk-by-ellen.html

006 February 03, 2018

Susan Sundwall’s “The Ringmaster”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/02/6-backstory-of-poem-susan-sundwalls.html

007 February 09, 2018

Leslea Newman’s “That Night”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/02/7-backstory-of-poem-that-night-by.html

008 February 17, 2018

Alexis Rhone Fancher “June Fairchild Isn’t Dead”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/02/8-backstory-of-poem-june-fairchild-isnt.html

009 February 24, 2018

Charles Clifford Brooks III “The Gift of the Year With Granny”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/02/9-backstory-of-poem-gift-of-year-with.html

010 March 03, 2018

Scott Thomas Outlar’s “The Natural Reflection of Your Palms”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/03/chris-ricecooper-caccoopaol.html

011 March 10, 2018

Anya Francesca Jenkins’s “After Diane Beatty’s Photograph “History Abandoned”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/03/11-backstory-of-poem-after-diane.html

012 March 17, 2018

Angela Narciso Torres’s “What I Learned This Week”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/03/12-backstory-of-poem-series-angela.html

013 March 24, 2018

Jan Steckel’s “Holiday On ICE”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/03/13-backstory-of-poem-jan-steckels.html

014 March 31, 2018

Ibrahim Honjo’s “Colors”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/03/14-backstory-of-poem-ibrahim-honjos.html

015 April 14, 2018

Marilyn Kallett’s “Ode to Disappointment”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/04/15-backstory-of-poem-ode-to_14.html

016 April 27, 2018

Beth Copeland’s “Reliquary”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/04/16-backstory-of-poem-reliquary-by-beth.html

017 May 12, 2018

Marlon L Fick’s “The Swallows of Barcelona”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/05/17-backstory-of-poem-swallows-of.html

018 May 25, 2018

Juliet Cook’s “ARTERIAL DISCOMBOBULATION”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/05/18-backstory-of-poem-arterial.html

019 June 09, 2018

Alexis Rhone Fancher’s “Stiletto Killer. . . A Surmise”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/06/19-backstory-of-poem-stiletto-killer.html

020 June 16, 2018

Charles Rammelkamp’s “At Last I Can Start Suffering”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/06/20-backstory-of-poem-at-least-i-can.html

021 July 05, 2018

Marla Shaw O’Neill’s “Wind Chimes”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/07/21-backstory-of-poem-wind-chimes-by.html

022 July 13, 2018

Julia Gordon-Bramer’s “Studying Ariel”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/07/22-backstory-of-poem-studying-ariel-by.html

023 July 20, 2018

Bill Yarrow’s “Jesus Zombie”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/07/23-backstory-of-poem-jesus-zombie-by.html

024 July 27, 2018

Telaina Eriksen’s “Brag 2016”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/07/24-backstory-of-poem-brag-2016-by.html

025 August 01, 2018

Seth Berg’s “It is only Yourself that Bends – so Wake up!”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/08/25-backstory-of-poem-it-is-only.html

026 August 07, 2018

David Herrle’s “Devil In the Details”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/08/26-backstory-of-poem-devil-in-details.html

027 August 13, 2018

Gloria Mindock’s “Carmen Polo, Lady Necklaces, 2017”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/08/27-backstory-of-poem-carmen-polo-lady.html

028 August 21, 2018

Connie Post’s “Two Deaths”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/08/28-backstory-of-poem-two-deaths-by.html

029 August 30, 2018

Mary Harwell Sayler’s “Faces in a Crowd”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/08/29-backstory-of-poem-faces-in-crowd-by.html

030 September 16, 2018

Larry Jaffe’s “The Risking Point”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/09/30-backstory-of-poem-risking-point-by.html

031 September 24, 2018

Mark Lee Webb’s “After We Drove”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/09/31-backstory-of-poem-after-we-drove-by.html

032 October 04, 2018

Melissa Studdard’s “Astral”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/10/32-backstory-of-poem-astral-by-melissa.html

033 October 13, 2018

Robert Craven’s “I Have A Bass Guitar Called Vanessa”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/10/33-backstory-of-poem-i-have-bass-guitar.html

034 October 17, 2018

David Sullivan’s “Paper Mache Peaches of Heaven”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/10/34-backstory-of-poem-paper-mache.html

035 October 23, 2018

Timothy Gager’s “Sobriety”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/10/35-backstory-of-poem-sobriety-by.html

036 October 30, 2018

Gary Glauber’s “The Second Breakfast”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/10/36-backstory-of-poem-second-breakfast.html

037 November 04, 2018

Heather Forbes-McKeon’s “Melania’s Deaf Tone Jacket”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/37-backstory-of-poem-melanias-deaf-tone.html

038 November 11, 2018

Andrena Zawinski’s “Women of the Fields”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/38-backstory-of-poem-women-of-fields-by.html

039 November 00, 2018

Gordon Hilger’s “Poe”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/39-backstory-of-poem-poe-by-gordon.html

040 November 16, 2018

Rita Quillen’s “My Children Question Me About Poetry” and “Deathbed Dreams”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/40-backstory-of-poems-my-children.html

041 November 20, 2018

Jonathan Kevin Rice’s “Dog Sitting”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/41-backstory-of-poem-dog-sitting-by.html

042 November 22, 2018

Haroldo Barbosa Filho’s “Mountain”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/42-backstory-of-poem-mountain-by.html

043 November 27, 2018

Megan Merchant’s “Grief Flowers”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/43-backstory-of-poem-grief-flowers-by.html

044 November 30, 2018

Jonathan P Taylor’s “This poem is too neat”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/44-backstory-of-poem-poem-is-too-neat.html

045 December 03, 2018

Ian Haight’s “Sungmyo for our Dead Father-in-Law”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/045-backstory-of-poem-sungmyo-for-our.html

046 December 06, 2018

Nancy Dafoe’s “Poem in the Throat”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/046-backstory-of-poem-poem-registering.html

047 December 11, 2018

Jeffrey Pearson’s “Memorial Day”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/47-backstory-of-poem-memorial-day-by.html

048 December 14, 2018

Frank Paino’s “Laika”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/48-backstory-of-poem-laika-by-frank.html

049 December 15, 2018

Jennifer Martelli’s “Anniversary”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/49-backstory-of-poem-anniversary-by.html

O50 December 19, 2018

Joseph Ross’s “For Gilberto Ramos, 15, Who Died in the Texas Desert, June 2014”

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/50-backstory-of-poem-for-gilberto-ramos.html

051 December 23, 2018

“The Persistence of Music”

by Anatoly Molotkov

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/51-backstory-of-poem-persistence-of.html

052 December 27, 2018

“Under Surveillance”

by Michael Farry

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/52-backstory-of-poem-under-surveillance.html

053 December 28, 2018

“Grand Finale”

by Renuka Raghavan

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/53-backstory-of-poem-grand-finale-by.html

054 December 29, 2018

“Aftermath”

by Gene Barry

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/54-backstory-of-poem-aftermath-by-gene.html

055 January 2, 2019

“&”

by Larissa Shmailo

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/55-backstory-of-poem-by-larissa-shmailo.html

056 January 7, 2019

“The Seamstress:

by Len Kuntz

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/56-backstory-of-poem-seamstress-by-len_6.html

057 January 10, 2019

"Natural History"

by Camille T Dungy

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/57-backstory-of-poem-natural-history-by.html

058 January 11, 2019

“BLOCKADE”

by Brian Burmeister

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/58-backstory-of-poem-blockade-by-brian.html

059 January 12, 2019

“Lost”

by Clint Margrave

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/59-backstory-of-poem-lost-by-clint.html

060 January 14, 2019

“Menopause”

by Pat Durmon

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/60-backstory-of-poem-menopause-by-pat.html

061 January 19, 2019

“Neptune’s Choir”

by Linda Imbler

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/61-backstory-of-poem-neptunes-choir-by.html

062 January 22, 2019

“Views From the Driveway”

by Amy Barone
https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/62-backstory-of-poem-views-from.html

Sunday, January 20, 2019

#12 INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION: Charles Salzberg's "SECOND STORY MAN"

Chris Rice Cooper

caccoop@aol.com

https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

***The CRC Blog welcomes submissions from published and unpublished fiction genre writers for INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION. Contact CRC Blog via email at caccoop@aol.com or personal Facebook messaging at https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

****Charles Salzberg’s Second Story Man is the twelfth in a never-ending series called INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC) focuses on one specific excerpt from a fiction genre and how that fiction writer wrote that specific excerpt. All INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION links are at the end of this piece.

Name of fiction work? And were there other names you considered that you would like to share with us? Second Story Man, which I just learned won the Beverly Hills Book Award for Best Crime Novel. Actually, it’s one of the few novels I’ve written where I haven’t started off with a different title. (Right: Charles Salzberg's on Hudson's River where he resides. Attributed to Christina Chui. Copyright permission granted by Charles Salzberg for this CRC Blog Post Only)

For instance, Devil in the Hole began as Skin Deep, but it sounded like the title of a bad porn movie, so I always wanted something else. I was walking down the street listening to my iPod shuffle and Tom Waits came on singing “Way Down In The Hole,” and that was it.

Fiction genre? Ex science fiction, short story, fantasy novella, romance, drama, crime, plays, flash fiction, historical, comedy, etc. And how many pages long? It’s a crime novel and it’s 270 pages.

Has this been published? And it is totally fine if the answer is no. If yes, what publisher and what publication date? Yes, Down & Out Books, April 2018

What is the date you began writing this piece of fiction and the date when you completely finished the piece of fiction?

It’s tough to put an exact date on something because I sometimes work on a few things at a time but I’d say I probably started it in the fall of 2014 and finished it around the beginning of 2016.

Where did you do most of your writing for this fiction work? And please describe in detail. And can you please include a photo? I do all my writing at my desk, on my desktop computer. I’m not one of those who can write outside, in a coffee shop or at the library. I wouldn’t get any work done at all because I’d be too busy staring at people and listening to other people’s conversations. Besides, I never work more than fifteen minutes at a time sitting at my computer. I have to get up and walk around, or do something else. (Right: Charles Salzberg at a book signing/reading for SECOND STORY MAN. April of 2018. Copyright permission granted by Charles Salzberg for this CRC Blog Post Only)

What were your writing habits while writing this work- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day? I’m very undisciplined. I write at all times of the day, whenever the mood strikes me. And never more than for ten or fifteen minutes at a time. In part, that’s due to suffering from nerve pain in my foot (the result of a surgery that went awry). But I’m a very fast typist, around 90 words a minute, and I can focus extremely well for those short spurts of time, so I can get a lot done. (Left: Charles Salzberg in 2016. Attributed to Ross Klavan. Copyright permission granted by Charles Salzberg for this CRC Blog Post Only)

What is the summary of your fiction work? Francis Hoyt, arrogant, athletic, brilliant, with a mean streak, is a master burglar, who believes he’s the best at what he does and he might be right. Charlie Floyd, a recently retired Connecticut State investigator and Manny Perez, a recently suspended Cuban-American Miami police detective, team up to bring Hoyt to justice. The novel is told in alternating voices, from the pov of the three men. The book opens as Hoyt makes his way from Florida up north, where he spends the spring, fall and summer in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Massachusetts, because that’s where the money is. Floyd and Perez try to anticipate Hoyt’s next move and when Hoyt eventually realizes the two are on his tail he begins to taunt them, daring them to catch him.

Can you give the reader just enough information for them to understand what is going on in the excerpt? This is the very beginning of the book, as Hoyt is making ready to head north, so not much explanation is necessary

Please include excerpt and include page numbers as reference. The excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer. Pages 1-4

Francis Hoyt

“Where’s my fucking money?”

“Francis, these things take time, man.”

I pounded on the table. Ice clattered against the sides of glasses.

“It’s been three fucking weeks, Artie. Are you running a business, or what? I want my fucking money and I want it now.”

I moved my chair around until I was sitting right next to him and then I got all up in his face, so close I could smell his cheap after-shave. Old Spice. I hadn’t smelled that since I was a kid and my old man used to pour it on to cover his nauseating stink of alcohol and tobacco.

“Listen, Artie,” I whispered, making sure I articulated every single word, “you do not want to fuck with me. I can be nice and I can be not so nice. Trust me, you do not want to deal with the not so nice Francis Hoyt. That would be a very big mistake, my friend.”

We’re sitting at a table by the pool at the Fontainebleau Hotel in Miami. Artie’s wearing one of those obscene looking, loud Hawaiian shirts and a bathing suit to match. He looks like some fucking fat tourist from Iowa on vacation for the first time. I’m dressed like a human being: khakis, a pale blue polo shirt, Gucci loafers. One of us looks like a complete asshole and it’s not me.

I’m not registered at the hotel and I doubt Artie is either. I’m the one who can afford it. He’s not. But this is where he hangs out and this is where he likes to act like a big shot by conducting business by the pool surrounded by a bunch of old, overweight, greased up Jews spread out on chaises longue, staring up at the sun while they bake. Guys like Artie don’t have offices. They just exist somewhere in time and space. But they would not exist at all if it wasn’t for guys like me.

Artie is a fence. I am a thief. Not just your run-of-the-mill, knock you over the head and steal your wallet thief, but the best damn thief in the world. Artie owes me money for goods delivered. The good stuff. Antique silver. Three heists worth. I figure I should clear at least a couple hundred grand after Artie takes his cut. That sounds like a lot but it’s only a fraction of its real value.

“Francis,” he whines. “I don’t think you understand how my business works. You bring me high-end items and I have to find unique buyers. And it ain’t here in the States. It’s much too risky to dispose of that kind of stuff here. I have to reach out to my European contacts. That takes time. You want me to get the best price, don’t you?”

“Listen to me, Artie,” I raised my voice a little, just enough to up the stakes slightly. Just enough to let him know I mean business. “Because I’m not going to say it again. I’m leaving town soon and I need that money. I’m not interested in your business problems, Artie. You’re a fucking fence. Do your fucking job. If you can’t, I’ll find someone who can.”

Artie loves to look like a big man, so he’s ordered lunch. Pastrami sandwiches on rye. I don’t want lunch. I especially don’t want a pastrami sandwich because I don’t eat meat. Artie would have known that if he’d bothered to ask. But he didn’t. He just wanted to look like a fucking big shot. I don’t care about his fucking lunch. I just want my fucking money. Besides, it’s hot, so hot I’m starting to sweat through my shirt, even though I hardly ever sweat. And as it gets closer to one, it’s getting hotter. I look up and see why. There’s not a fucking cloud in the sky. Just the sun. A big, yellow ball in the sky, suspended in an ocean of blue. That’s why people come down here. For the sun and the heat. So, they can jump in the pool to cool off. Makes no sense to me. You want to cool off stay the fuck where you were up north. Or sit in your air-conditioned room.

“Whoa, Francis, we go back a long way. I don’t want to lose an old client like you. Besides, You’re more like a friend than a client.”

I laughed. I don’t think of myself as a client and I certainly don’t think of myself as Artie’s friend. I break into people’s homes and take what I want. Artie sells what I take. We have what they call a symbiotic relationship. It’s as simple as that. Only Artie isn’t making it simple. He’s making it difficult. It’s my job to get him back on track. To remind him who the fuck he is and why the fuck he exists.

“I’ll give you two days. You understand? Two fucking days. No more. You either come up with the dough or you give me back the goods. I’ll find someone else to fence it or I’ll fucking melt it down and sell the shit myself.”

“Francis, don’t do that! Please. Some of those pieces are part of history, man. American history. They go way, way back.”

“I don’t give a fuck about American history. All I give a fuck about is the money. And Artie, don’t fuck with me when it comes to the money. I know the value of those pieces. I researched them. It’s not just the silver it’s the provenance. You know what that means, Artie?”

“I do, Francis. I really do. And that’s why I’m being so careful. Whatever you bring me is high-grade stuff. I have to take special care. But you’ll get your money, I promise you.”

I move my chair back a couple steps. I’ve been too close to him for too long. That stink coming off him is starting to make me sick.

“Two days,” I say.

“I don’t want to set unrealistic expectations, Fran…” he said, as he reached for his sandwich. I grabbed his wrist before he could get it up to his mouth.

“Artie, let me put this as simple as I can. If I feel like you’re trying to cheat me, or if I feel like you’re shining me on, or if I think you’re doing this just to Jew down the price, I’m going to deal with you in ways you don’t want to even think about. I may be physically small but I am very deadly. See that pool over there?”

I gestured toward the enormous swimming pool filled with chlorine blue water and screaming kids.

“Yeah. Sure. I see it.”

“You don’t want to wind up floating in it, face down.”

“Francis, please, there’s no need for threats.”

“It’s not a threat, Artie. It’s a statement of fact. I’m a man who can see into the future. That’s your future, Artie. Two days.”

I got up.

“Francis, you haven’t even taken a bite of your sandwich.”

“I don’t eat meat, Artie. Get yourself a doggie bag.”

Fucking moron.

Why is this excerpt so emotional for you? And can you describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific excerpt? Originally, the book did not begin this way, but rather with Charlie Floyd receiving a phone call from Det. Manny Perez, asking him to help him bring Hoyt to justice, but I decided the book should begin with Hoyt, not the two lawmen. It was very cathartic for me to begin with Hoyt, because he’s the furtherest from me in terms of who he is, how he speaks, how he behaves, how he treats people and who he is. It was actually very freeing to write this character.

Other works you have published? I’ve also written Devil in the Hole, which was based on a true crime, a man who killed his entire family, wife, three kids, mother, and the family dog, and disappeared. In fact, I borrowed two characters from this novel, Charlie Floyd and Manny Perez, and used them in Second Story Man. Devil in the Hole was named one of the Best Crime Novels of 2013 by Suspense Magazine.

I’m also the author of Swann’s Last Song, which was nominated for a Shamus Award for Best First PI Novel, and the sequels, Swann Dives In, Swann’s Lake of Despair, Swann’s Way Out, and the upcoming Swann’s Down. I also have novellas in the collections, Triple Shot and Three Strikes.

Anything you would like to add? The truth is, Chris unlike some other writers, I don’t have a very firm grasp on what the characters look like. I know how they think, and even how they move, and their attitudes, but physically, they’re kind of blurred for me. For some reason, I work better that way. I like the reader to fill in the blanks as to their physical characteristics. As I said, I know Hoyt is smaller, built like a jockey (only taller than the normal jockey, but I know more about his past and his present and how he things than I do how he looks. (Left: Charles Salzberg with fellow writer and friend Roy Hoffman in 2017. Copyright granted by Charles Salzberg for this CRC Blog Post Only)

Charles Salzberg is a freelance writer whose work has appeared in New York magazine, Esquire, GQ, Redbook and The New York Times Book Review. He has written over 20 non-fiction books, including From Set Shot to Slam Dunk, an oral history of the NBA, and Soupy Sez: My Zany Life and Times; On A Clear Day They Could See Seventh Place: Baseball’s 10 Worst Teams of the Century. He is author of the Shamus Award nominated Swann’s Last Song, Swann Dives In, Swann’s Lake of Despair, nominated for two Silver Falchions, Swanns Way Out, Devil in the Hole, named one of the best crime novels of the year by Suspense magazine Second Story Man, winner of the Beverly Hills Book Award for Best Crime Novel of 2018, and he has novellas in the collections Triple Shot and Three Strikes. He was a Visiting Professor of Magazine at the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications at Syracuse University and he teaches writing the New York Writers Workshop where he is a Founding Member. He is a member of the MWA-NY Board. (Right: Charles Salzberg with friend and former student Christina Chiu at the 70th Street Pier on the Hudson River near Salzberg's home. Copyright permission granted by Charles Salzberg for this CRC Blog Post Only)

http://www.charlessalzberg.com/

http://www.newyorkwritersworkshop.com/

INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION links

001 11 15 2018 Nathaniel Kaine’s

Thriller Novel

John Hunter – The Veteran

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/001-inside-emotion-of-fiction-nathaniel.html

002 11 18 2018 Ed Protzzel’s

Futuristic/Mystery/Thriller

The Antiquities Dealer

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/002-inside-emotion-of-fiction-ed.html

003 11 23 2018 Janice Seagraves’s