Make Your Anger Count. My Thoughts On 9-11-2016

Sep 11, 2016 by

It’s fair to say that many, perhaps even a majority of Americans are outraged by how members of the NFL have blatantly shown disrespect for the United States by refusing to stand while the national anthem is being played prior to a football game.

The 1st Amendment to the Constitution guarantees them freedom of expression. While they could protest whatever they dislike in this country in more acceptable ways, doing it like this is their inalienable right.

However, those who are outraged by this unpatriotic conduct and disrespect also have rights. Why not exercise your right to influence the team owners and NFL management who condone this behavior by treating the NFL in a manner similar to how the police combat organized crime?

We shouldn’t be so naive to think that the NFL, team owners or most of the players engage in the sport solely to please the fans. These sports professionals are in the business of making money—lots of money. They are entrepreneurs. Most of the laws and official documents that mention organized crime refer to it as a criminal enterprise. The criminals are also entrepreneurs in the purest sense. They are out to make money—lots of it.

The most successful method of battling organized crime has always been to attack the purpose of their criminal enterprise—their pocketbooks. Cost them money. It’s more effective than putting a handful of thugs in prison. The Mafia, like few other organizations cross train their personnel. If one member is taken out of action, another is qualified to step up and take his place. However, the money is gone forever. Do that often enough and they realize how certain phases of their business operation is no longer profitable. Historically, they have occasionally changed their way of doing business.

I doubt anyone is hoping for these disrespectful football players to experience an infusion of patriotism, place their hands over their hearts and sing The Star Spangled Banner during the pre-game ceremony. But everyone would at least like to see these men stand and remain silent while those who wish to partake in the ceremony can do so without being offended.

So, if people would like the NFL and team owners to “suggest” that all players behave in a respectful manner, exercise your rights to boycott ALL NFL games. NO ONE should purchase tickets. NO ONE should watch televised games. NO ONE should buy products sold by NFL sponsors. Hit the NFL where it hurts—in the pocketbook. Without the usual income from ticket sales or advertising budgets, can the NFL afford to pay these “sportsmen” the exorbitant salaries they could earn in no other country on earth?

If you’re outraged by the conduct of individuals or entire teams, don’t just bitch about it and then grab a beer and watch the game.

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EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT WORD COUNTS BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK

Aug 7, 2016 by

People who have read my novelettes (the stories between 8,000 and 11,000 words that were originally destined to be made into one hour audio books and eBooks) often ask, ‘Why are they called novelettes?’ Some people say, “Hey, I liked that novella you wrote,’ when they really read a novelette.

Since the tags given to different length pieces of fiction seem to cause a wee bit of confusion, I thought I might list the generally accepted definitions for fiction by word count. Just a note: These lengths are not always agreed upon by those who set forth unofficial definitions, but they’re all pretty close to the differing lists that each of the various experts call gospel.

Drabble- A story of exactly 100 words.
Droubble- A story of exactly 200 words.
Micro fiction- Up to 100 words.
Flash fiction- Up to 1,000 words.
Short story- 1,000 to 7,500 words.
Novelette- 7,500 to 17,500 words.
Novella- 17,500 to 45,000 words.
Novel- 45,000 to 100,000 words
Epic- over 100,000 words.

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A new review for A LEPRECHAUN’S LAMENT written on March 25, 2016 for a book originally published on St, Patrick’s Day, 2012.

Jul 29, 2016 by

All the work, all the typing, all the times when I woke up at 3:45 in the morning thinking of something I should have written or something I absolutely need to add to a chapter, and all the tedious self-editing which causes me to hate the very sight or thought of the novel I just finished and am ready to send off to the publisher, becomes worth all the effort when I get a review written by someone who knows what they’re looking at.

New York clothier, Sy Syms, always said, “Give me an educated consumer any time.” Sy meant that a customer with good knowledge of the merchandise would recognize his product as something special. This Amazon customer knows what makes a good book and flatters me with his/her thoughts on A LEPRECHAUN’S LAMENT.

Thank you Tracy Shew, whoever you are, for reading my book and taking the time to post this review.

Absolutely superb!
I’m definitely not a fan of [the] detective genre. This novel sucked me in because of the cover and the intriguing concept – A murder victim who doesn’t exist? Who is he? Perhaps a real leprechaun? And, it was near St. Patrick’s Day so I thought, “What the heck.”

I was groused in by page one. This was the real stuff. Although set in a near-contemporary Tennessee town, the dialog plays like a 1940s NYC detective film. I appreciated the different characters, painted vividly by the interplay and Sam Jenkins’ observations. This was especially true for the female characters, who he found attractive in different ways. The social atmosphere was spot-on for second- and third-generation immigrants in the south, something which (when it is presented in other books) is generally arbitrary or overplayed: everything becomes “Oyrish” and we have no idea why. Here, the result was not too unsubtle, and the social structure was entirely relevant to the plot, especially since the setting was small-town [America] rather than “Little Dublin.”

The best aspect of this book is the incredible authenticity of police work. Sam Jenkins has a “job,” which in no way resembles what we’ve become accustomed to in the movies and TV. Dirty Harry doesn’t have a “job.” Dirty Harry has a freakin’ big handgun and a tag line. Instead of driving speeding cars through pedestrian-filled streets and blowing bad guys to smithereens, Sam spends most of his time on telephones or pressing palms with loathsome officials like the Mayor, while wondering how late he’s going to have to work and thinking of his next meal and what type of alcohol he’ll have. These details and the glimpses into what “real” police life is like (fueled by Wayne Zurl’s experience as a cop) are remarkably refreshing. If more detective/cop books were like this, I would seek [out] this genre more frequently.

The tradeoff is, of course, that some readers might [want to] “GET TO THE CAR CHASES!” But for me, the authenticity is much better. And when the action comes – as you know it will – the stakes and consequences are much, much higher. Parts of the book made me feel as if someone had grabbed and twisted my guts.

The reason it all works is because Zurl understands two crucial elements of great novel writing, and excuse me if I get a bit “bookish.” He knows about the “reveal,” which means what information to give the reader, when, and exactly how. This is an absolutely indispensable element for detective genre. And the reveal given here is not arbitrary, which means that information is not held back “just because.” (Think of Dobbie the House Elf in J.K. Rowling: “Mustn’t tell! Mustn’t tell!”) All of the reveals are logical and work within the plot. The other element, related to this, is deep structure, which has to do with the order of events in the plot. Here, too, everything is logical and natural – no arbitrary love interest brought in just because some formula calls for it. The structure, like any detective or mystery novel, works at two levels: What the narrator knows and what the reader knows. At key points, Zurl reveals things to the reader, or at least starts a suspicion, which leads to suspense. The deep structure keeps pages turning in anticipation.

A final bookish point of something which shined for me was the simple use of language. There were some witty turns of phrases throughout. Sam, of all the characters, considers his wit to be his charm. Especially in the first half, where the prose is more dialog-driven, this shows splendidly. Later, however, when the mood of the book changes, Zurl shows his muscles in description. The ability to shift prose as gears change shows a rare command of language.

In terms of its craft, one of the best books I’ve read in years. For me, a delightful read well worth the effort.
Tracy Shew, verified Amazon customer


A LEPRECHAUNS LAMENT...small

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A Touch Of Morning Calm

Jul 22, 2016 by

A Touch Of Morning Calm

A Touch of Morning Calm by Wayne ZurlChief Sam Jenkins runs headlong into Tennessee’s faction of Korean organized crime when a mobster tries to shake down two former call girls attempting to establish a legitimate business. Soon, bodies begin piling up—all with a Korean connection—in Sam’s town of Prospect and nearby Knoxville.

Sorting truth from fiction calls for more than Sam and his officers can handle, so he turns to the women in his life for assistance. His wife, Kate, Sergeant Bettye Lambert and TV news anchor, Rachel Williamson contribute significantly in clearing the convoluted homicides.

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For the last two years, I’ve spent nearly one third of my life with Sergeant Bettye Lambert, my administrative officer and occasional partner. We get along famously—most of the time.

At my age, you’d expect I’d know how to deal with women, but experience shows I’m not as smart as I think. If I inherited the ability to handle the opposite sex efficiently, I would have taken a different job—like a hairdresser. But apparently in that area I’m hopeless. So I remain a cop.

The main telephone rang on Bettye’s desk. If the caller wanted me, she would buzz my phone and forward the call. Nothing happened. Moments later, she stood in my office doorway, looking a little miffed.

I could always tell when things weren’t going her way. She cocked her left hip to the side and rested a hand there. I thought she looked attractive. With her right hand, she leaned on the doorjamb and scowled at me.

At least she isn’t holding a gun.

“It’s your friend—that cheap blonde,” she said.

“Who?”

Bettye shook her head, and her blonde ponytail swung back and forth. “You know who.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. Who are you talking about?”

“Well, you seemed to get along with her just fine. It was me she didn’t like.”

“Huh?” I remained in the dark.

“You damn well know who I’m talkin’ about, Sam Jenkins. That blonde we met on the Cecil Lovejoy case—that one from Chicago.”

“Ah-ha.” A light in my brain switched on.

“Yes, ah-ha. Now pick up your damn phone.”

Bettye gets away with saying things like that because we both know how important she is to my little police department. And hearing a note of jealousy in her voice boosts my ego.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” I said. “Just why are you angry?”

“Lord have mercy, you’re pathetic.”

I tried a smile. “That may be true, but you’re still hopelessly in love with me.”

“Not after today, darlin’. I said answer the phone. That one’s waitin’ for ya.” She turned and walked away.

Sergeant Lambert made reference to a woman named Veronica Keeble. Two years ago, after a local man, one Cecil Lovejoy, was murdered in Prospect, Bettye and I interviewed Mrs. Keeble. Sort of a suspect at the time, Veronica was thirty-five-years-old, blonde and absolutely gorgeous. Did I mention she was an ex-hooker?

I answered my phone, curious to learn what ‘that one’ had to say.

“Hello, this is Chief Jenkins.”

“Well, hello there. It’s been a long time.” She sounded friendly.

“Yes, it sure has. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Were you the police chief when we first met, or have you been promoted from detective?”

I remembered the time I interviewed her. On a warm July day, we walked down the street where she lived, and I listened to the intimate details of her earlier life.

“Yeah, I was the chief back then. We only have thirteen cops here, so I get to play detective at times. I’d have to sweep the floors, too, if the mayor caught me not looking busy.”

She laughed briefly, something a little husky and a whole lot sexy. “I see. You must have a tough boss.”

I thought about Bettye. “Sometimes I wonder who the boss is around here. What can I do for you, Mrs. Keeble?”

“The last time we spoke, I thought we agreed on Sam and Roni.” Her voice sounded soft and inviting.

Another memory—before we parted company, she asked my first name, shook my hand and left me gazing into the most incredibly blue eyes on the planet.

“We did. Okay, Roni, how can I help you?” I wondered what I might be getting into.

“Did you ever find out who killed that awful man?”

“That’s a long story—sort of.”

She called me to learn the outcome of a two-year-old case?

“You’ll have to tell me some time.”

“Sure, but first tell me why you called. I want to know if I should be flattered because you remember me or act totally professional.”

“Wow, how do I answer that?”

“Try the direct approach. Remember, I’m a civil servant. You pay my salary. I, madam, am at your disposal.”

She used that soft and inviting sound again. “That opens up all kinds of possibilities.”

The woman really had a way with words. I thought I’d play along. I wasn’t busy.

“But,” she said, “I guess I should tell you why I called before I forget.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s your dime.”

“Well, I have a friend who just opened a business in Prospect. I think she may need police assistance.”

“Really? Why didn’t she call?”

“I told her you and I had already met. I know it’s been a while, but I still remember how nice you were. You listened to my story, and you weren’t judgmental like someone else might have been. I thought you were okay for a cop. I told her I’d call and see if you would help her.”

“Okay for a cop, but not so hot for a plumber or delivery man?”

“Oh, stop, you’re just looking for compliments.”

“Maybe. I could be suffering from self-esteem problems.” I allowed a few seconds for her to enjoy my self-deprecating humor. “If she’s in some kind of trouble and it’s a police matter, of course I’ll help. But I’m sure you understand I have to hear her story first.”

“I knew you’d do it.”

Roni Keeble didn’t say, ‘Yipee,’ but I could envision her smiling. I still have a good memory. Did I mention the girl was gorgeous?

“Will you have lunch with us? I’ll introduce you, and Sunny will explain everything.”

“Having lunch with a complainant and her friend isn’t the usual way a policeman starts an investigation.”

“Lunch would be nice though, wouldn’t it?”

This is how a cop gets into trouble.

“Yes, I’m sure it would be, but you two could come to my office.”

“Sunny is Asian. They like to conduct business over a meal.”

I remembered thinking about not being busy. And her story sounded intriguing. Or was I just in the mood for a little more flattery?

“Ask her if having tea would work. It’s culturally appropriate, and we can mingle with the gray-haired ladies at Tillie’s Tea House here in town.”

She laughed again. “Okay, tea is fine. Would this afternoon at two be convenient?”

“Sure. That gives me time to get a purple rinse and a perm. I want to fit in with the local girls.”

“Sam, I can’t wait to see you with purple curls.”

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AVAILABILITY OF THE SAM JENKINS MYSTERY NOVELETTES

Jul 6, 2016 by

On June 30, 2016, Mind Wings Audio, the company that published the Sam Jenkins novelettes in eBook format and produced the audio versions of the Sam Jenkins mysteries, ceased doing business and pulled all books from their sales links and from those of the usual distributors. So, I’m sorry to say, any novelette once handled by Mind Wings is TEMPORARILY unavailable.

But like a bade penny, Sam Jenkins will always show up again. Melange Books, LLC has contracted with me to publish in print and eBook format all the previously published novelette-length mysteries in three anthologies of six stories each. Beginning in 2017, ALL the stories listed in this section will again go on sale. The titles of these anthologies will be: A MURDER IN KNOXVILLE and Other Sam Jenkins Mysteries, scheduled for release in June or July, THE GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAIN BANK JOB and Other Sam Jenkins Mysteries, scheduled for release in August or September, and GRACELAND ON WHEELS and More Sam Jenkins Mysteries in October or November.

I’m looking forward to seeing this best-selling Sam Jenkins cop fiction with snazzy new covers from the artists at Melange Books.

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