Randall J. Funk's Blog

As a mystery writer, some might think my enjoyment of that genre is confined strictly to books. That’s not at all the case. I love mysteries in ANY format, particularly if they’re done well. So, I offer some recommendations from time to time. This week, it’s about TV shows. Some of these you may be into, some you may have only heard about, some may be new to you. Just take this as a friend offering a few suggestions.

ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING (Hulu or whatever Hulu is now)

PREMISE: An unlikely trio of friends, bonded by their love of true crime podcasts, wind up solving a murder that takes place in their upscale New York apartment building. It becomes a cottage industry when more murders take place in and around the building.

STARS: Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez, as well as a bevy of guest stars.

MY TAKE: The characters and their relationships are terrific and fun. Not only do the mysteries unfold in an intriguing way, but the personal stories are surprisingly emotional. Martin and Short have been friends and occasional collaborators for years, so their chemistry is not surprising. But it’s delightful to see how easily Gomez fits into the trio. It’s a testament to all three actors. The setting, the Arconia, is terrific, almost becoming a character itself. As a funny, intriguing, and occasionally emotional show, you can’t do better than Only Murders. Now, let’s sit down and enjoy some dips.

THE RESIDENCE (Netflix)

PREMISE: An offbeat private detective tries to solve the murder of the White House Chief Usher. The investigation is complicated by layers of politics and bureaucracy.

STARS: Uzo Aduba, Giancarlo Esposito, Randall Park, Isaiah Whitlock Jr, Jane Curtain, Al Franken, among others.

MY TAKE: A classic mystery in every sense. A compelling and quirky detective, well-meaning befuddled sidekicks, a great setting, plenty of suspects and a cracking good mystery on top of it. It also pokes some nonpartisan fun at the political process, featuring no less than former Minnesota senator Al Franken in the cast. Cordelia Cupp should have taken her place among the great TV detectives. Alas, Netflix chose to cancel the series after just one season. But what a season it was. Highly recommended.

SHAKESPEARE & HATHAWAY: PRIVATE INVESTIGATORS (Britbox)

PREMISE: After a down-on-his-luck private investigator takes a former hairdresser as his new partner, the two solve various mysteries in and around Stratford-on-Avon, England.

STARS: Jo Joyner, Mark Benton, Patrick Walshe McBride

A long-running (by British standards) series in which many of the stories adapt Shakespeare’s plays and characters. Some of the material in the later seasons get a little silly, but there’s an undeniable chemistry between the leads. A ton of fun and well worth the time.

DEATH IN PARADISE (Britbox)

PREMISE: A British Detective Inspector is assigned to the fictional island of St. Marie (jointly held by the French and the British) and must navigate the local customs and his quirky staff in order to solve various murders

STARS: (Currently) Don Gilet, Elizabeth Bourgine, Don Warrington, Shontol Jackson, Shaquille Ali-Yebuah, Catherine Garton

Definitely a long-running series, by any standards. The setting is gorgeous and the characters are always enjoyable. The cast generally features a fish-out-of-water British detective, a loyal and efficient assistant (generally, native to the island) and two beat cops, also island natives. The show has had a Theseus’s ship of revolving castmembers. To date, there have been five lead detectives, four assistants, and multiple beat cops. The only constants have been Commissioner Selwyn Patterson (Don Warrington) and bar owner, later mayor, Catherine (Elizabeth Bourgine). Still, the show constantly provides interesting mysteries, featuring a classic everyone-gathers-in-the-same-room-for-the-reveal climax (something that’s become a running gag on the show). How much longer can the show go on? I’d love to find out.

A MAN ON THE INSIDE (NETFLIX)

PREMISE: A retired college professor is hired by a private investigator to infiltrate a senior living facility with the idea of catching a thief. Along the way, he begins to rediscover his own joy of life, damaged by the death of his wife some months earlier.

STARS: Ted Danson, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Lilah Richcreek Estrada, Stephanie Beatriz, Mary Steenburgen

MY TAKE: This one is and isn’t in the mystery genre. The series is more a meditation on aging and discovering what’s important in life. It’s both funny and moving. The ensemble is terrific. This sort of fish-out-of-water role suits Danson perfectly. I binged the entire first season in one night (given it’s eight episodes at about 30 minutes apiece, it wasn’t a giant commitment), and the second season in two nights. It’s a compulsively watchable, fun, and heartwarming series. Here’s hoping they bring it back for another season.

Yes, there are people who look at an independent author with a sort of pity. The poor schlub simply couldn’t get published by a traditional publisher and now they’re just toiling away at this pipedream. If you’re one of those folks, please, from the bottom of my heart, go f**k yourself.

If you’re NOT one of those folks and you’re still with me, I will admit that part of that perception is true. I gathered my fair share of rejection notices from various agencies and small publishers. It’s cold comfort that most of those came from entry level employees who didn’t read the manuscript and may or may not have even read the query letter. For me, it was hard to be stuck in neutral when I didn’t have to be. I wanted to work and produce content and if that meant doing it myself, I’m enough of a control freak to be okay with that.

But I DID have an opportunity to be traditionally published, and I passed on it. Here’s the story:

I’ll call the company Goat Press, just for storytelling purposes. I’d actually heard of them when I stumbled across one of their books at a Barnes & Noble. It looked like a fun little mystery from a local author and the company’s actual name (which I will not mention here, obviously) indicated they were Minnesota-based. I looked up their website and found they were willing to take submissions from previously unpublished authors. Their requirements were a query letter and three sample chapters. That was easy enough to put together, so I sent it all in.

I was thrilled to get a positive response and a willingness to meet with me about the possibility of publishing DEATH IS A CLINGY EX. A meeting was set up, and I was expected at their offices on an appointed day. I was less thrilled when I realized the address was in a rural community about an hour outside the Twin Cities. As a character in a Sherlock Holmes TV series once remarked, after looking at 221B Baker Street on Holmes’s card, “It’s not a very inspiring address.” But hey, they were willing to meet with me. That was MUCH better than another rejection letter.

At this point, I need to take a quick side journey and talk about my friend, Ellen Hart. Ellen was a published mystery author who taught three writing classes I had taken, and was the first to tell me I had the talent to be a published author. During one of those classes, she told the story of publishing her first novel. She was approached by a small press that seemed eager to publish the book. But Ellen got some uneasy feelings about them, feeling they were a little too eager and that the quality of their work wasn’t the highest. She decided to pass on the offer. (She would eventually find a more reliable press and would go on to publish more than 30 mystery novels.) When I heard that story, I wondered if I would have the courage to do the same in her position. After all, being published by a traditional press was my dream. Could I really turn it down if it was staring me in the face? Okay, back to the main story.

So, the day arrived, and I drove to the meeting. And drove. And drove. See, Goat Press might have had an address in this rural community but said community apparently covers a large swath of territory. At one point, I may have left the country. (I could swear I saw some road signs in French, but maybe I’m making that up.) At last, though, I managed to find the place and discovered…it was located in a converted barn on a goat farm. (Hence, the fake name I gave it.) You ever smelled a goat farm? If you get the opportunity: don’t. Still, I’d come this far, physically and emotionally. I had to see it through.

I met with three people that day. I’m not going to give you their actual names because A, I wish to protect their privacy; and B, I have long since forgotten what they were. The head of the outfit was an older, hardbitten sort of woman I’ll call Jane. We’ll call her two younger assistants the Bobsey Twins, since they don’t really factor into the story. It should be said they were nice enough to meet with me, even though I discovered, to my mortification, I had shown up on the wrong date. (The meeting wasn’t supposed to be for another week.) They must have realized I had driven roughly three continents to get there, and they weren’t going to make me come back. It also, as it turned out, saved us from delaying the inevitable.

When they explained their terms for publishing, I found a few things disquieting. First, I would be expected to pay $300 for a couple boxes of my books. I could then sell those books and keep all the money. (It would add up to a small profit.) However, this went against the first rule stated by EVERYONE who talked about trying to get published: NEVER give somebody money up front to either publish your book or to represent you. Next, I would be entitled to ten percent of the profits from the print book and ten percent from the e-book. The print book terms were fine, but ten percent for the e-book? There is barely any overheard with an e-book. Why did they need 90% of that? Finally, it was understood that I would do all my own marketing, which had become standard even among the large publishing houses (unless your name was King or Rowling). While all of this gave me food for thought, none of it was a dealbreaker. That was still to come.

When glancing through the print pages of my sample chapters, Jane and I had this exchange:

JANE: I noticed a couple of times, it slipped into present tense. You’ll have to be careful about that.

ME: Um, it’s ALL in present tense.

JANE: (snaps me a look) It will be in past.

No “Are you sure that’s the right choice?” No “Well, in my experience…” No “Let’s talk about that.” Just “It will be in past” in a tone that brooked no disagreement, invited no discussion. To Jane’s credit, she must have (correctly) read the look on my face and realized her remark went over like a fart in church. She relented slightly and gave me some gobbledygook explanation about how present tense doesn’t leave you any place to go and past tense does. (And that is garbage, because it’s not hard to temporarily switch tenses and keep the reader with you, no matter which one is the primary tense.) I didn’t discuss it further and maybe I’m remembering this wrong, but it felt like some of the air went out of the room. (Though, sadly, the aroma of the goats did not.)

On the way home, I took a wrong turn, making the drive even longer. (Cell service was such that my GPS was useless.) This turned out to be a good thing, as it gave me plenty of time to think. I had left the meeting with the impression they were willing to publish my book. But I was no longer certain I wanted that. The “tense” argument was, well, the source of my tension. It might sound like I’m being petulant, but I have a very good reason for writing in present tense, at least for the Joe Davis books. I want the reader to feel as if they’re sitting around with a friend who’s telling them a cool story. When I’ve told stories in that setting, I usually tell them in present tense. There’s an immediacy to it that heightens the tension. And in a mystery, that tension is key. I’m not saying every mystery has to be in present tense. But every Joe Davis mystery does.

I added up everything in my head. What was Goat Press offering me that self-publishing would not? I’d have to spend money. The profits would be minimal. I’d have to do all my own marketing. The only difference, as far as I could tell, was that Goat Press could get my book into a Barnes and Noble in Bugscuffle, Nebraska whereas I could not. And THEY would be in charge of editing the book. It didn’t seem to make sense. If I was going to spend the money and do all the marketing, shouldn’t the book at least adhere to my vision? By the time I pulled into my driveway (several days later), my mind was made up. If Goat Press made me an offer, I would turn it down. I’d rather go it alone. The next day, they emailed me an offer. And I politely declined.

Have I regretted that decision? No. Even in my lowest moments of feeling like this independent author thing is a waste of time, I haven’t regretted turning down Goat Press. It’s entirely possible they would have published only one of the Joe Davis titles, and I would have wound up buying back the rights and doing exactly what I’ve done since then. And I would have been stuck with a boxful of books I would rather disown than sell.

Thankfully, Ellen validated my decision shortly after. When I first told her I was talking to Goat Press, she got a look on her face similar to the one you might give a friend doing something questionable. “Oh, you and Elizabeth are getting back together? That’s…great.” When I told her I had turned them down, she let out a sigh of relief, finally able to speak freely. “You didn’t miss anything,” she told me. “Their editing has a TERRIBLE reputation.” So, I probably dodged a bullet there.

Even if being an independent author sometimes feels like a mistake, it’s MY mistake. And I’ll own it.

A question I get from time to time: Where did you get the ideas for your books? Granular details about individual moments don’t tend to interest most readers, and that’s fine, since I generally can’t remember those details.

I would love to tell you it’s easy, that I begin my day by cruising the internet and by the time I’m done, I’ve got seven or eight solid ideas. Or there’s a secret database that all mystery writers use and for a reasonable fee, you can get every idea you ever need. Sadly, neither of those are true. (The fee for the database is completely unreasonable.)

The truth is that, like most elements of writing, it’s a combination of inspiration and perspiration. But once I get an idea for a book, I add it to the stockpile and wait to use it. That’s why I always have the next five Joe Davis books roughly planned. (VERY roughly planned.) As for where, specifically, the ideas come from, it’s something I only realize when I reflect on it (and thankfully, I have written enough books on which to reflect).

Broadly, my ideas tend to fall into two categories: Inside-Out or Outside-In. Inside-Out ideas begin with an element of the actual story–a scene idea, the jumping off point of the mystery, even a single line–and builds from there. Outside-In begins with a general idea–a character returning or a setting–abd looks for a mystery that could go with it. If you’re curious, I don’t really have a preference for one or the other, though I’ve noticed myself using one more than the other as time has gone along.

The examples of Inside-Out:

-DEATH IS A CLINGY EX: It started with an idea for Joe sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for his most recent ex-girlfriend. The story was built from there.

-DEATH LIVES ACROSS THE HALL: It actually started with me ranting to my former wife about a neighbor of ours who felt threatened by me. (A complete misconception, BTW, though I DID hate this woman.) During my rant, I said, “The funny part is that her health is top priority. If something happens to her, who do you think the first suspect will be?” And the mystery writer in me said, “Hey, there’s a story there.”

-DEATH IS SLEEPING WITH MY WIFE: It began with an idea for a scene. Joe is lying in bed with his girlfriend. He gets a call in the middle of the night from her husband, who yells and screams at him. The girlfriend neglected to mention the husband. The next logical step is that the husband turns up dead, and Joe is a suspect.

-DEATH STOLE MY RIDE: This one began with my friend, Michael Paul Levin, telling me a story about the time he unwittingly sold a getaway car to a gang of thieves. (He tells it better than I do.) The first words out of my mouth when he finished were, “Can I use that story?” So, in a sense, this book is an adaptation.

-DEATH AND THE SINGLE KILLER: This one began with two specific scene ideas that anchored the book. One was a scene from Deirdre’s origin story and one was a scene from the “modern” story. Both storylines were built from there.

The examples of OUTSIDE-IN

-DEATH AND THE FANBOY: I wanted to set a story at a comic book convention and use it as sort of a backdoor tribute to 60’s TV. I just had to figure out the mystery.

-DEATH IS A REAL KILLER: I wanted to bring back Deirdre from Death Wears a Big Hat and needed a mystery to go with it.

-DEATH, YOU JABRONI: I wanted to set a story in the world of professional wrestling. Having some access to independent wrestling and being a fan of Jim Cornette’s podcasts helped with that.

-DEATH STALKS THE RETIREMENT PARTY: I wanted to do a story that brought Joe back to his hometown of Porter’s Bay and involved his family.

-DEATH IS THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY: The story was designed to bring Lisa back and tell her story with Joe.

These are harder to categorize:

-DEATH WEARS A BIG HAT: This began as a short story I wrote years ago (not involving Joe and his friends). I was trying to adapt it into a book and keep the basics of the story. I’m not sure what category this falls into.

One thing to keep in mind is that just because one has a book idea for a story, it doesn’t necessarily follow that it’s a good one. And if you’re committed to writing a series in which a new book appears every summer, it can be a pain in the derriere to discover an idea doesn’t have legs.

Death Stole My Ride is my best example of that. I first envisioned it as a short story and started writing it as such. However, I was a couple pages into writing when I began to think this would work better as a book. So, I slotted it in as Book Five in the Joe Davis series. I was deep into the first draft when I realized it was going to work better as a short story. Unfortunately, I had the books were slotted such that I couldn’t swap out Ride for another story idea. (Or my touch of OCD simply wouldn’t allow me to do so). While I was able to complete the book and honestly feel it was better than it had any right to be, it’s not one of my favorites. A massive attempt on the part of the author to make chicken soup from chicken feces.

On the other hand, Death and the Fanboy also began life as a short story that I felt would work better as a book. And it DID work in a longer form. (That’s less a comment on the quality of the book and more on the conversion of the idea from short story to book.) Sometimes, you just don’t know until you get into the writing.

In the end, there’s no easy way to come up with ideas for books. You just have to remain calm and stay open to what the world may provide. In which case, just hope that your imagination stays fertile and the world keeps providing.

I’m at an age where you start to look back over the choices you’ve made in life and wonder what might have happened if you’d done things differently. This does not necessarily denote a midlife crisis. One need not do this wondering from a negative place. You don’t have to look back on your life as a waste. But if you’ve lived enough years, it’s natural to wonder, “If I moved this domino here, and this domino there, what does the new pattern look like?”

When I graduated high school, I intended to be a journalist, specifically a sports journalist, perhaps as a precursor to becoming an author. (It’s been known to happen.) After my first year at college, I changed my major to theatre. I spent the next thirty years involved in theatre in some capacity, even if it never became my profession. It’s been seven years since I last appeared on stage, and I honestly can’t picture myself ever doing it again, for any number of reasons that I won’t go into here. Suffice to say, I’m done with theatre. But that doesn’t come with a lot of regret. In fact, it comes with a lot of gratitude.

I honestly believe theatre has been more influential on my writing than anything else. Writing is clearly an exercise of the mind. Theatre, on the other hand, allows you to inhabit the worlds being created. It’s a three-dimensional exercise. And it’s impacted my writing in any number of ways.

Dialogue is the most obvious. I find dialogue rather easy to write. (Not that every bit of dialogue I write is brilliant, but it comes to me rather easily). Actors get a sense of what lines sound good to the ear and feel good in the mouth. It gives you insight into how characters respond to each other. It gives you a sense of which lines will land with an audience or sum up a moment. It also gave me a feeling for the rhythm of a scene. Where to put the pauses, so that a particular line or word is heightened in importance. I can’t think of an area of my writing that has been more influenced by theatre than this.

The ability to tell a story is another benefit. Where you direct the audience’s attention, what bits of information you provide in a particular scene, how to pace something for best effect. If you introduce a gun in Act I, the damn thing has to be fired by Act III. (Thank you, Mr. Chekhov.)

And beyond the “C should follow B which should follow A” mechanics of the plot, working in theatre gave me the ability to explore an emotional arc, to think about where a character is at the start of their journey, where they will wind up at the end, and the connective tissue between those two points. Practically everything I know about storytelling, I learned in the theatre.

In this same way, I learned about telling a story visually. What a character DOES can give you as much insight as what they SAY. What physical habits do they have in general? What habits do they adopt in certain moments? Also, what does the setting tell you about them? What does it tell you about the mood of the scene, of the story? Frequently when writing a scene, I close my eyes and visualize the action. Years in theatre have made the process more vivid than it might be otherwise.

Similarly, theatre not only allowed me to feel what the characters are going through in a given moment. What drives that particular gesture or habit? Where are they at, emotionally? What do they WANT out of this moment? Goals, tactics, stakes. Thoughts, emotions, reactions. Many of the items in an actor’s toolbox can become items in a writer’s toolbox.

In the end, I have nothing but gratitude for what theatre gave me, even if my time participating is done. Writing is the thing that is most important to me and my years in theatre was the most formative and impactful experience on my writing. I simply wouldn’t be the writer I am now without it.

So, allow me to offer a very fond So long and thanks for all the fish to theatre. I’ll be at the Retired Actors Home, Community Theatre Wing if you need me.

An episode of Seinfeld that frequently pops into my head these days is “The Couch.” One of the storylines involves Elaine refusing to order from Pino’s Pizza due to their stand on abortion. (Pino’s was a thinly-disguised stand-in for Domino’s Pizza, whose owner at the time, Tom Monaghan, donated to anti-abortion causes.) For the remainder of the episode, Jerry creates trouble for Elaine by relating everything back to someone’s views on abortion. They cause a kerfuffle in Poppie’s Restaurant when Poppie makes his anti-abortion views clear, hurting his business and starting him down a road that ends with him befouling Jerry’s new couch. (You really need to watch the episode to get the connection). Meanwhile, Elaine begins dating the hunky moving guy who helped deliver Jerry’s new couch. Jerry asks Elaine about the guy’s views on abortion. Elaine clearly hasn’t had this conversation with the guy, but is sure he’s pro-choice “because he’s so good-looking.” When they do have the conversation, the guy says (in words that would prove sadly prophetic), “One of these days, we’ll get enough judges on the Supreme Court to get that law changed.” Slow it down frame-by-frame and you can see the exact moment Elaine’s heart rips in half. (Sorry, mixing my sitcom metaphors there.) The lesson to be learned is clear: judging our businesses and relations according to their political views can be a tricky undertaking.

(I assume that’s the lesson. Though Larry David has made his political views clear, Seinfeld generally went for funny over morality plays.)

That episode feels relevant in light of today’s political turmoil. Companies have been quick to line up and kiss the ring (and that’s the most tasteful metaphor I could think up) of the Mango Mussolini. They’ve contributed to his campaign, rolled back DEI programs at his behest, and generally normalized the Project 2025 agenda. All in the name of deregulation and tax cuts. (Only to be fed tariffs, but that’s another story.) One of the worst offenders in this area is Amazon.

Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos is a piece of work (and a piece of other things I won’t mention). He has been open regarding his disdain of unions. His business practices are aimed at driving other retailers out of the market. He’s been quoted as saying he wants employees to wake up terrified every day. (If underpaying and overworking them has gotten that job done, he’s been spectacularly successful.) He is, in the words of Stephen Colbert, “a penis with arms.” (That actually has nothing to do with Bezos’s business practices. I just like quoting that line.)

I’m in a somewhat unique position in dealing with Amazon, as I’m both a consumer and a retailer. The consumer side is fairly easy to handle. I avoid Amazon like that plague. If I can buy or rent something without using their services, even if it costs me a little more or is a little less convenient, I will do it. The trickier part, though, is the retailer portion.

There’s no other way to say it: I have to do business with Amazon. They are still the largest retailer in the world. The Kindle is the most used e-reader on the market. In terms of monetary value, I get very little from them, currently, but I also spend very little up front. And it’s the most visible marketplace in the world. If you want to get seen, you have to be there. It’s an ugly reality, but it’s reality, nonetheless. I need Amazon.

If I’ll claim any credit, it’s that I’ve tried to limit my interactions with Amazon over the years. Amazon offers Kindle Direct Publishing to independent authors as a cheap and easy way to get their books out there. The catch is that if you publish through KDP, you can ONLY deal with Amazon. Places such as Barnes and Noble, Kobo, or any other e-book or print retailer need not apply. KDP limits your independence as an independent author. But it IS convenient and relatively inexpensive. (As my mom might have put it: “That’s how they get you!”)

I’m also currently trying to present alternatives to buying my stuff through Amazon. I recently introduced a coupon code (PORTERSBAY) for a 50% discount on any print books ordered through my website (randalljfunk.com). (Sorry for the shameless promotion, but I’ve got to get that info out somehow.) I’m also exploring ways to make e-book versions of the Joe Davis series available through my website. I’m hoping to make this available before the end of the year.

Does all this make up for the fact I’m doing business with a less-than-scrupulous company? That’s up to you. You have power as a consumer, as some of you shown in your dealings with Target, Amazon, and the like. I’m not here to talk you into giving me a pass. I’m here to explain my conundrum and how I’m dealing with it. If the explanation is good enough for you, I hope we can still be in business together. If not, I understand perfectly. That is your choice as a consumer, and I respect it.

Furthermore, I hope your hunky moving guy is pro-choice.

For a writer, killing off a character, I imagine, is as close as we get to playing God. Sometimes, it hurts. Sometimes, we’re indifferent. But it’s something you have to take seriously. Because once it’s done, it’s done.

I knew I was going to get some blowback over killing off Deirdre. You have a perfectly popular supporting character, and you have the gall to kill her off? Forget that she’s a contract killer and her lifespan was never going to be long. You had to kill her off on Joe’s watch? What were you thinking?

First, you have to understand Deirdre was never meant to be here for a long time. In fact, she wasn’t meant to hang around for more than one book. She was introduced in Death Wears a Big Hat, mostly as a function of the story. I needed Joe and his friends to be caught between the devil and the deep blue sea: crooks on one side, cops on the other, only them in the middle. Deirdre had to represent the crooks, in addition to the actual murderer.

Originally, I was going to use a hitman character named Bart, who’s shown up in a number of things I’ve written. I eventually decided against this for two reasons: 1) While Bart has shown up a number of my writings, none of them have been successful. (Stop trying to make Bart happen!); and 2) a woman would make a more interesting character. So, I began to create a female contract killer. Her personality began to form as she interacted with others (the love/hate relationship with Joe, the history with James Street, etc.). If you read (or re-read) Big Hat, you’ll come away with the feeling Deirdre is more potential than realization. Which meant she was a great character to bring back again. By the time I finished Big Hat, I knew Deirdre would make a return, this time in a more prominent role.

Deirdre returned in Death is a Real Killer. This time, she worked side-by-side with Joe, trying to solve a murder for which she was (ironically) innocent. The trick here was to drop more clues about Deirdre’s past without revealing much of anything. We find out she had a mentor named Warren. He saved her from something. Her real name is Christina. She has a handler named Emily. One of the subplots to the book (not entirely successful, I have to admit) is the idea that as Joe gets closer to Deirdre, he discovers he doesn’t really know her at all. But it DID set things up to bring Deirdre back again. (Hell, I think I planned that before I even started Killer.)

Having teased so much, it stood to reason that Death and the Single Killer would be the perfect time to tell Deirdre’s backstory. Plus, I had already introduced a device in Death is the One That Got Away by which I would replace the Cup o’ Joe opening in every chapter with a backstory. (For those who may be concerned, the Cup o’ Joe openings will return with Book 12 and will remain for the foreseeable future.) This gave me the opening to tell Deirdre’s story, as well as explore different methods of storytelling.

The problem, of course, was that it left nothing else to tell about Deirdre. When you’ve intrigued the reader with a character cloaked in mystery, there’s no point continuing once the mystery is revealed. As I said, telling Deirdre’s story was the next logical step. But once it was told, it was time for her to go away.

I didn’t set out to write a trilogy about Deirdre. As you can see, things just developed as I went. She’s a character that–and I have no reason to doubt the feedback I’ve gotten–is popular with my readers. But I recognize her, have always recognized her, as a character who is best used in small doses. A character revealed in bits and pieces, not unlike the mysteries themselves.

The tough part, of course, is to recognize when a character like that has outlived their usefulness. Even a little too much can color the audience’s view of a character. As theatre folk say: always leave them wanting more. This seems like the perfect place to leave off with Deirdre.

To be clear, I did not do this with any particular joy. I genuinely enjoyed writing Deirdre, and I enjoyed the journey that got us to this point. But sometimes, you have to make difficult decisions. Maybe that’s why I prefer playing God to having the actual job.

Maybe you've seen the meme with the world on fire and Will Farrell asking, "Does anyone need any poems?"

If you’re a writer, it’s hard not to be discouraged looking at something like that. Then again, we live in fairly discouraging times. I don’t need to run down the list. Just check your preferred social media platform. It’s a wasteland of doom scrolling. In fact, you’ll probably see that meme.

As a writer, it makes me feel useless. I just write words. I can’t restore funding. I can’t get people out of prison. I can’t restore Constitutional guarantees. I can’t enforce judicial decisions. I can’t eliminate tariffs. All I can do is write poems (of a sort).

And I haven’t been encouraged when I’ve dipped my toe in that water. For nine books, I made Joe Davis’s political views reasonably clear. (Joe takes a shot at Glen Beck in the first book and comments on gun control in the second.) But it was just a mention here and there. Death is the One That Got Away was the series’ most overt dip into politics, as Senator Bill Longston drew a clear parallel to Donald Trump. The result was that I lost a few readers (and I don’t have that many to spare). My proofreader warned me that such a thing might happen, but I chose to go forward. Do I have any regrets?

No.

Let’s address the “feeling useless” thing first. We’re enjoying (?) the five year anniversary of a time when the world seemed knocked off its axis. In February, 2020, the COVID pandemic reached the United States, and by the end of March, mass shutdowns started. People were kept home from the office or school. They were ordered to stay indoors and to wear masks if they ventured outside. Nobody knew a vaccine was only several months away, and that by the end of 2021, we’d start to talk about the pandemic in the past tense. For all we knew at the time, we were at the beginning of the end of days. (We may still be there. Let’s not be too hasty.)

Who did people turn to during this time? They turned to artists. Everybody seemed to have their pandemic binge, be it a TV show, a movie, or a book series. The Mandalorian, Ted Lasso, Tiger King, The Queen’s Gambit, Dune. Old movies, books and TV shows were discovered or re-discovered. Locally, there were artists who innovated. A couple who performed plays in their driveway. A filmmaker who had actors record scenes on Zoom, then stitched them together into short films. An actor who did “morning announcements” for his high school age stepdaughter and posted them on social media. Filmmakers, writers, actors, singers, visual artists, they all found ways of getting their work to the public. Did they get rich in the attempt? No. Because that wasn’t the purpose.

These were the things that got us through. Did they create the vaccine? No. Did they contribute to its distribution? No. Did they make politicians take the pandemic seriously? No. But they got us through. They were important.

If the arts weren’t important, would people be so threatened by them? If thoughts and ideas aren’t important, why are books banned? Why is arts funding cut? Why is Hollywood pressured to follow a certain agenda? Why does censorship exist? If art wasn’t important, it would be ignored.

That’s how totalitarianism is allowed to thrive. They come for the opposing viewpoints. They come for the better vision. They come for the thoughts and ideas. They come for what the arts have to offer.

So, what do we do? We carry on. We express ourselves. We comment on what’s going on. Not just on specific events, but what part of the human condition has contributed to it. We share a vision. Point to the better angels of our nature. Provoke thought. Sing. Write. Perform. Create. Inspire.

What am I planning to do, specifically? On one level, I’m starting the MFA Creative Writing Program at Augsburg. My major project will not be another Joe Davis book. It will be a mystery, but one that allows me to look at, among other things, the arc of American society and politics over the last forty years. It’s intended to be a major work. My magnum octopus as I refer to it.

The Joe Davis books will continue. There is also another overtly political book in the pipeline. But beyond specific commentary, I’ll continue–between murders and dick jokes, of course–to use Joe as a vehicle for my views on society, on politics, on humanity. I’ll weave it into my work in ways big and small. But I won’t stop. I won’t be discouraged. I won’t be cowed. The times are too important for that.

Do you need any poems?

I guess I can call it a trend now. One book takes longer than I planned and the next one snaps together in short order. DEATH, YOU JABRONI took a year and a half to complete, being published six months later than my "new book every summer" schedule. And now, the next Joe Davis book will be ready in a few months, possibly coming out earlier in the year than any of the other books. I guess there's always a silver lining, huh?

When his friend Lars becomes the ring announcer for a small promotion, Joe Davis, Twin Cities humor blogger and low-level celebrity, gets a look inside the wild world of professional wrestling. Joe, a lifelong fan, is thrilled…until one of the promotion’s main event stars turns up dead. And another main event star is the top suspect.

Believing the police are pursuing the wrong person, Joe takes on the investigation himself. It brings him deeper into the world of professional wrestling, where the line between fact and fiction is often blurred. Along the way, he meets a promoter desperate to reach the big time, a couple of aging stars facing the end of their careers, and a young star with a dark secret in her past. Joe must also deal with sneak attacks, break-ins, secret agendas, and frameups. Can he navigate a world in which nothing is quite what it seems? And can he do it without suffering a beatdown of his own?

“This is the deal, darling: you help me solve this murder…or I kill you.”

A year ago, Joe Davis, humor blogger/low-grade Twin Cities celebrity, found himself and his friends spending a night pursued by cops and criminals (like you do). Among the pursuers was a comely contract killer named Deirdre. Though Deirdre and Joe saved each other’s lives that night, Joe hoped to never see her again.

Looks like that hope has been dashed.

Deirdre turns up on Joe’s doorstep, pursued by the police after apparently murdering the CEO of a prominent Minnesota company. While Deirdre was hired the commit the murder, it appears to be a set up. The murder was committed before Deirdre arrived, leaving her at the mercy of the police. Now Deirdre needs Joe to help clear her name before the cops’ pursuit ends her chosen career. Joe is hesitant, but Deirdre drives a hard bargain: help her or become her next victim. Decisions, decisions.

The investigation leads Joe down a path of corporate intrigue, malfeasance and skullduggery. The suspects include an ignored wife, a jealous friend, and an ambitious coworker. How does a potentially doomed project and the death of a corporate whistleblower tie into it? These are the things Joe must figure out if he is to survive this case. All with a figurative—and sometimes literal—gun to his head. No pressure, right?