At a conference recently, I was asked, “Do you write mystery novels or thrillers?”
“Yes,” I answered with a smile.
Okay, it’s a wise ass reply. There are discernible differences between the two genrea. As Wikipedia succinctly explains, the thriller hero must stop the villain’s plans, rather than uncover a crime that has already happened. The latter situation is, of course, the setup for classic mystery novels.
By the time Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple or Columbo or Jessica Fletcher appears on the scene, the murder has been committed, the mystery is underway, and the heroes use their powers of detection to nail the killer.
Mystery Novels Raise Questions
So, “The Maltese Falcon” and “Gone Girl” are mystery novels. There are questions to answer. In “Falcon,” who shot Sam Spade’s partner and why are people willing to kill to get that black bird?
Mystery Novels: “Gone Girl” is a classic mystery, despite the cover sticker proclaiming it a “thriller.”
In Gillian Flynn’s runaway bestseller “Gone Girl,” why did Amy Dunne go missing? Did her husband kill her? And…oh, wait! I can’t ask the next question, because as with many mystery novels, there’s a huge TWIST halfway through, and I won’t spoil either the book or movie for you.
Mystery Novels Are Puzzles
Mystery novels are often puzzles that are solved by the hero discovering the identity of the villain…and hopefully bringing him/her to justice. But there are sub-genres. The “closed mystery” or “whodunit?” conceals the identity of the villain until late in the story, while the “open mystery” reveals the perpetrator committing the “perfect crime” at the beginning, forcing the hero to figure it out at the end. Columbo, anyone?
Is “…Tattoo” a mystery or a thriller? Both!
In thrillers, the hero and the reader generally know the identity of the villain. Often, there are chases, explosions of violence, and a “ticking clock” race against time. The hero is often in danger, as are people he cares about. “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” “Strangers on a Train,”“The Silence of the Lambs,” and “The Day of the Jackal” are all thrillers…but all also have elements of mystery. In “…Tattoo,” a mystery is at the heart of the story. What happened to the missing teenage girl nearly 40 years ago? But the action of the story is the hallmark of the thriller.
Mystery Novels and Thrillers Overlap
All of which brings up an important point. There is much overlap in these definitions.
So, back to the question at that panel…where do I fit in? I’m going to be as evasive as a shady witness on the stand. I prefer the broad category that labels me a writer of “crime fiction.” In fact, that’s where you’ll find me in Wikipedia, (alphabetically) just after Elmore Leonard and before Laura Lippman. And that’s a very fine place to be.
But then Wikipedia also says I’m a thriller writer and a mystery writer…alphabetically just after Gaston Leroux. Who? He wrote “Phantom of the Opera.”
To make matters more confusing, I write “legal thrillers,” which combine elements of mystery novels –who’s the murderer and will he/she be convicted? — with the classic thriller that places the hero in jeopardy.
Mystery Novels: Legal Thrillers Can be Both Mysteries and Thrillers
My legal thrillers clearly overlap the boundaries I’ve described. How else to explain that they’ve been nominated for the International Thriller Writers Award (“The Deep Blue Alibi”), the Edgar Allan Poe (crime fiction) award (“Kill All the Lawyers”), the Shamus (private detective) Award (“State vs. Lassiter”) and even the James Thurber humor award. (“Solomon vs. Lord.”)
So, bottom line…don’t worry about labels. Read what you enjoy. Mystery, thriller, or the Dead Sea Scrolls, which are pretty mysterious, too. Until next time…
James Garner was one of the many Hollywood figures whose passing was noted in the “In Memoriam” tribute of the Emmy Awards Sunday night. I knew Garner a bit and wanted to share a few memories of the handsome, talented actor who died last month at 86.
James Garner as P.I. Jim Rockford. Yikes, those plaid sport coats!
I met James Garner briefly 45 years ago. Fresh out of Penn State, I had just started as a rookie reporter for The Miami Herald. Jackie Gleason, a part-time South Florida resident, was holding his annual celebrity golf tournament. Gleason had chartered a plan to bring his Hollywood buddies to Miami, and I was assigned to interview a few stars. Bob Hope, Dinah Shore, Danny Thomas, whoever I could grab at the airport.
(In those days, Miami was a backwater southern town that still got goose bumps over any brush with celebrity. South Beach was called “God’s Waiting Room” for the number of elderly playing their last hands of gin rummy on the porches of crumbling old hotels).
James Garner: After “Maverick,” Before “Rockford”
I watched the celebrities step off the plane, and there was James Garner, ruddy-faced and smiling. (He might have enjoyed a cocktail or two on the cross-country jaunt). All these years later, I can’t remember a word that was said. But the man was modest and helpful to this nervous, obviously inexperienced reporter. (I was 21 and looked about 12 and was wearing my one suit, which happened to be green). I didn’t know it at the time, but Garner was considered one of the most likable actors in Hollywood.
Garner’s career-making western “Maverick” was in the past. His success with “Rockford Files” hadn’t yet happened. But he had become a movie star. Earlier that year, he’d starred in “Marlowe” and “Support Your Local Sheriff!” A few years earlier, he’d made “The Americanization of Emily,” the World War II dark comedy he considered his favorite film.
Many years later, I was working in Hollywood with Stephen J. Cannell, the co-creator of “Rockford Files.” I asked him what it was like working with James Garner, and he paid the actor perhaps a writer’s highest compliment:
“We were on a rugged writing schedule, and sometimes, the scripts weren’t up to par. But Jim would never complain. He just raised his performance to make the scripts better.”
Chief Justice James Garner
In 2002, when Garner was 74, we had a chance to work together. I had co-created “First Monday,” a CBS drama set at the Supreme Court, and Garner played the Chief Justice. The show was loosely based on my novel, “Impact,” in which a Supreme Court law clerk attempts to change a decision by extorting one of the justices.
Chief Justice James Garner and our fictional Supreme Court.
Joe Mantegna and the late Charles Durning were associate justices. On the set, James Garner was pleasant, modest, and a delight to be around. Often, in down time, the other actors would gather around him, and he would tell stories covering his five decades in the business. He had recently completed a feature film and was mildly annoyed at the young, insecure director who kept calling for additional takes. “I told him I’d shoot as many takes as he wanted, but my performance wasn’t going to get any better,” Garner said.
One day we were on location, shooting a scene at a local college campus. Garner sat in an ancient director’s chair that could have dated from his “Maverick” days. (The canvas had been replaced by sheepskin). Without warning, the wooden chair legs simply cracked. I was sitting on one side, and writer Randy Anderson on the other. We both moved quickly and caught Garner as he was tumbling to the floor.
That’s it. I saved the actor from a bruise or too. He was grateful, and I was very pleased to have known this modest, likable and talented actor.
“First Monday,” however could not be saved from its tumble. After one season, the show was cancelled by CBS. I don’t think it’s available on DVD, though “Impact,” the book that inspired the show is an Amazon e-book.
Actual News Item: The Miami Heat Big Three, LeBron James, Dwywane Wade, and Chris Bosh, were spotted EATING SALADS at the Soho Beach House Wednesday, presumably discussing whether to take pay cuts in order to remain the key ingredients of the NBA franchise.
The Soho Beach House is a fancy oceanfront hotel/club/spa a few blocks south of the Fontainebleau, but that’s besides the point. It’s the “EATING SALADS” that drew my attention and reminded me of this event, which may or may not have happened.
Mickey Mantle, his wife Merlyn, and Toots Shor
Miami Heat Big Three Do Not Eat Here
TOOTS SHOR’S RESTAURANT, WEST 51st STREET, MANHATTAN, JUNE 1956
Three New York Yankees — Mickey Mantle, Billy Martin, and Yogi Berra — sit down for lunch.
“What do you want to eat, Billy?” Mantle asks.
“I’m thinking about the kale salad with sliced pear and walnuts, balsamic vinaigrette on the side,” Martin says.
Mantle watches a waiter rush by, carrying a massive platter of calf’s liver covered in onions and surrounded by bacon. “What about you, Yogi?”
“Nuttin’ fancy,” Berra says. Maybe the arugula salad with walnuts. Hold the dressing.”
Mickey Mantle and Billy Martin on their way to church.
“I’m thinking about sliced ahi,” Mickey says.
“Ain’t you heard about mercury poisoning?” Berra shoots back.
“Right.” Mantle goes back to studying the menu.
Toots Shor comes by the table with Jackie Gleason, who’s holding his usual glass of ginger ale. They slap the guys on the back, crack wise and move on, discussing the world situation, which is to say, how the New York Football Giants will do this Fall.
Toots Shor and Jackie Gleason enjoy their non-alcoholic beverages.
Mantle watches a diner at an adjacent table, wolfing down chopped hip sirloin covered in fried onion rings. “I think I’ll go for the mixed greens with extra frisee,” Mantle says, finally.
“Again!” Martin and Berra shout, in derision.
“With a pineapple mango smoothie, low-fat yogurt.”
Early the next morning, which is to say 10:30 a.m., Mantle awakens with start. “Jeez, hon, I had a terrible nightmare.”
“What about?” his wife, Merlyn, asks. “You sleeping here two nights in a row?”
“No, worse. What the hell is kale, anyway?”
*************************************************
Would Miami Heat Big Three Get a Table at Toots Shor’s?
While we await the Miami Heat Big Three decision — on their contracts, not lunch — let me pass on this great anecdote about Toots Shor, restauranteur and pal to celebrities and athletes.
Toots Shor served lots of things: kale salad was not among them.
One night, the MGM mogul Louis B. Mayer was unhappily standing in line for a table. Spotting Toots, Mayer says: “I hope the food is worth waiting for.” Replied Toots, “It’ll be better’n some of your crummy pictures I stood in line for.” Credit Wikipedia with the story. It’s too good not to be true.
The ten-episode Fargo TV Series, based loosely on the Coen Brothers darkly comedic feature film, went out with a bang — several bangs — and fans can finally let out a deep breath.
HUGE SPOILER ALERT: Hit man Lorne Malvo (Billy Bob Thornton) is dead.
PAT MYSELF ON THE BACK ALERT: Several episodes ago, I told my wife Marcia that meek cop-turned-mailman Gus Grimly, not protagonist Deputy Molly Solverson, would kill Malvo. Dramatically, it had to happen that way. More on why below.
Meanwhile, a lawyer friend asked last night. “Okay, what’s it all mean?”
Well, where to begin? The Fargo TV series was many things. On the surface it’s a serial killer story with the usual question: Will justice be done? But that’s the issue in virtually every cop show in the history of television.
Fargo TV Series: Lorne Malvo (Billy Bob Thornton) was one icy killer.
Just as “True Detective” (another many-layered serial killer story) was deeply rooted in the psychological traumas of the two main characters, much was going on beneath the surface in the Fargo TV series:
* It’s a father-daughter story. Two stories, really. Lou (Keith Carradine), the retired and wounded cop, fears for his daughter Molly, (Allison Tolman), the deputy-who-should-be-chief. And widower Gus Grimly (Colin Hanks) fears that if he’s killed, his daughter will be an orphan.
* It’s a story of two sociopaths, though one doesn’t know it in the beginning.
* It’s a story of two cowards, but one really isn’t.
* It’s a story of redemption for the coward who was really a hero.
* But most of all, it’s a story about a very smart female cop whose talents are ignored by her donut-chomping male superiors until the very end, where she prevails, just as the former chief had foreshadowed.
Deputy Molly Solverson is frustrated by the incompetence of the chief in the Fargo TV Series
Fargo TV Series: In the Beginning, a Shocker!
Let’s go back to the beginning. All is well with the world in little Bemidji, MN. Vern, the nice guy police chief, recognizes Molly’s superior intelligence and dedication and expresses the hope that she’ll be the next chief. Then, BOOM! Hit man Malvo kills Vern in a scene of shocking violence.
That shooting came hard-on-the-heels of Malvo killing the town bully in a whorehouse, and meek insurance salesman Lester Nygaard (the incomparable Martin Freeman) splattering his wife’s brains with hammer. A true coward, Lester has learned from Malvo that having no conscience can get things done. You can kill your nagging wife, frame your irritating brother, lie to the widow of the town bully and have sex with her, then finally set up your second wife to take a bullet intended for you. All with hardly a second thought. It was Malvo who brought out Lester’s sociopathic tendencies, though I suppose there was always an underlying narcissism.
Fargo TV Series: Gus Grimley’s “Desires” and “Needs”
Midway through the season, we discover we have a co-protagonist. It’s widower-cop Gus Grimly, who takes a shine to Molly, marries her, and gets her pregnant. But there’s a “ghost” looming over him, to use the screenwriting term. Early on, he freezes up and lets the murderous Malvo go, after stopping him for speeding. But if you recall, it was Gus’s fear of leaving his daughter an orphan — not cowardice — that prompted Gus’s action…or inaction. Still, that left Gus despondent, and after a second screw-up, accidentally shooting Molly in a white-out blizzard, he’s canned from the force. Now he can pursue his real dream…becoming a mailman. No, really.
Killer Lorne Malvo (Billy Bob Thornton) and reluctant deputy Gus Grimly (Colin Hanks) in the Fargo TV series.
Gus might not be cut out to be a cop, but neither is he a coward. In the finale, he sneaks into Malvo’s hidden cottage to await his return. Logically, Gus should have called the cops, right? Wrong! As wife Marcia pointed out while we were watching the show, Gus knew that his wife, the pregnant Deputy Molly, would rush to the scene, directly into harm’s way. Gus was protecting her with his seemingly illogical action.
Another reason, too. Let’s go back to film school (a place I’ve never been). In screenwriting, they talk about a character’s “desires” versus a character’s “needs.” On the surface, Gus desires a peaceful life. A family. A pleasant drive through the countryside delivering the mail. But his “need” is interior, perhaps even unconscious. He needs to prove to himself that he is not a coward. He needs to protect his wife and daughter. (In this regard, he is just like Molly’s father Lou, who sits on the porch all night with a shotgun to protect Gus’s daughter from harm). In short, Gus needs redemption. That’s why it was clear to me, early on, that Gus will kill Malvo. And boy, was it satisfying! Seldom is a shooting in cold blood so damn well earned.
Lester Nygaard (Martin Freeman) takes his lumps en route to becoming a killer on the Fargo TV series
Hey, speaking about redemption, let’s say a word about the knucklehead police chief Bill (Bob Odenkirk), who, as another observer pointed out, is “not the sharpest blade in the woodchipper.” He gains redemption by recognizing his weaknesses and Molly’s strengths and retiring so she can become chief. In an unusually introspective moment, he admits to not being up to the job in an era of cruelty and inhumanity:
“I used to have positive opinions about people. Used to think the best. Now looking over my shoulder — an unquiet mind — that’s what the wife calls it. The job has got me staring into the fireplace, drinking. I never wanted to be the type thinking about the nature of things. All I ever wanted was a stack of pancakes and a V-8.”
I think that was intended to pay homage to the Coen Brothers’ “No Country for Old Men,” where Sheriff Tommy Lee Jones bemoans the passing of simpler times. Here’s a truncated version of that monologue:
“I was sheriff of this county when I was twenty-five years old. Hard to believe. My grandfather was a lawman; father too. Me and him was sheriffs at the same time; him up in Plano and me out here…Some of the old time sheriffs never even wore a gun. A lotta folks find that hard to believe…The crime you see now, it’s hard to even take its measure. It’s not that I’m afraid of it. I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job. But, I don’t want to push my chips forward and go out and meet something I don’t understand.”
Sharp observers might remember a couple weeks back, Malvo told the story about the bear who chewed his leg off to get out of a trap, then died in a stream, but on his own terms. Then Malvo gets his leg broken in Lester’s bear trap…leading to his own death at Gus’s hands. No biggie. Just the screenwriter showing off a bit.
Finally, there is the wonderful ending of the Fargo TV series. On a comfy sofa, preganant Molly, Gus and Gus’s daughter Greta are watching television. Gus is a tad embarrassed that he’s getting a citation for bravery for taking down Malvo. Says he thinks Molly should get it. “Nope,” she says, “that’s your deal. I get to be the chief.”
But today I’m turning the blog over to Oline Cogdill, widely regarded as the top crime fiction reviewer in the country. (She’s won the Raven Award, presented by the Mystery Writers of America, to prove it).
Review of “Lassiter”
I’m simply re-printing Oline’s 2011 review of “Lassiter,” which marked the comeback for the linebacker-turned-lawyer, who hadn’t been seen since 1997’s “Flesh & Bones.” I might add that I’m doing this without asking Oline’s permission or that of the South Florida Sun-Sentinel or The Miami Herald, or the written consent of the National Football League. So sue me.
By Oline H. Cogdill
Paul Levine brings a certain symmetry to “Lassiter,” which marks the return of Jake Lassiter, a Miami Dolphins linebacker turned hard-nosed lawyer.
Levine’s series launched in 1990 with “To Speak for the Dead,” named one of the 10 best mysteries of the year by the Los Angeles Times. The Lassiter series came at the start of the wave of Florida mysteries that shows no sign of slowing down and earned Levine the John D. MacDonald Florida Fiction Award.
“To Speak for the Dead,” the first of the Lassiter novels
Now Jake is back after a 14-year absence in the aptly named “Lassiter,” and it’s as if this wise-cracking, renegade lawyer never left. “Lassiter” works as a gripping legal thriller, a story of self-discovery, and a look at corruption set against an insider’s evocative view of South Florida.
And it seems fitting that Levine reintroduces his attorney by having him look into an incident that occurred early in his career.
Like many people, Jake has regrets, especially about his wilder days. One regret is that he didn’t do more to help Kristin Larkin, a teenage runaway.
“Back then, I had yet to develop the empathy for others that marks the passage into manhood,” he says. Today, Jake is a different man and he’s caught off guard when Amy Larkin shows up, accusing him of being involved in her sister’s disappearance 18 years earlier.
Amy, who was only 11 when her sister ran away, had always believed her sister dead until her father recently told her on his deathbed that he didn’t know what happened to Kristin. The obsessive Amy targets Jake since he is the only link she has to her sister.
Jake Lassiter is both suspect and investigator in the disappearance of a young woman
Jake’s investigation leads him to Charlie Ziegler, a former pornographer turned philanthropist; Alex Castiel, a Cuban-American prosecutor who is one of Jake’s best friends; and Miami’s history of organized crime.
Lassiter Serious, Witty, and Sardonic
Levine’s energetic storytelling works well in “Lassiter” as the author manages to make his novel serious, witty and sardonic — sometimes even in the same sentence. Levine steeps his plot in realism, making Jake’s look into an 18-year-old trail seem plausible.
Jake knows who he is now as well as who he once was — “the egotistical jock with all the trappings of stunted male adolescence.” He knows that rich and famous clients aren’t about to come through his door. Still, he’s a good lawyer and trying to be a better parent to his young nephew he’s raising.
Levine demonstrates that he knows Miami by following Jake’s travels on the myriad causeways, along South Beach and through Coconut Grove. In the story as in real life, no trip to Miami is complete without a visit to Versailles restaurant in Little Havana.
Although Levine put his attorney on hiatus in 1997, the author has been quite busy, writing the humorous Solomon vs. Lord legal series set in Miami and working as a screenwriter in Los Angeles, including writing 20 episodes of the TV series JAG.
“Lassiter” makes us remember how much we enjoyed Jake’s company. It’s good to have him back.
**************************
And to that, I say, thank you and return to work on my next book!
