In Cold Blood
How can you not love Truman Capote's classic "In Cold Blood" if you are a fan of true crime. It's the granddaddy of the genre and still widely read because it is written so well, like a novel.
It was the invention of a style that came to be known as "New Journalism."
Written in 1965, it tells the story of two criminal losers who murder the Clutter farm family in a botched robbery in Kansas in 1959.
Listen to his writing voice: "Ordinarily, Mr. Clutter's mornings began at six-thirty; clanging milk pails and the whispery chatter of theh boys who brought them."
He described one of the killers this way: "Like Mr. Clutter, the young man breakfasting in a cafe called the Little Jewel never drank coffee. He preferred root beer. Three aspirin, cold root beer, and a chain of Pall Mall cigarettes--that was his notion of a proper 'chow down.'"
I don't pretend to be Capote, but I like to think I can string a few words together to make an interesting sentence.
The following is from my book, "Cold Blooded, A True Crime Story of a Murderous Teen Vampire Cult."
"Rod Ferrell lowered his head on Nov. 18, 2019, as he walked across the courtroom. It was not from shame. He was watching where he stepped, so he would not tangle the chains of his leg irons. It is the kind of thing you learn in prison after more than twenty years if you don't learn anything else.
"The former teen vampire cult leader was wearing a faded orange jumpsuit. At thirty-nine, he looked faded, even with a prison yard suntan. His formerly long, dyed black hair was clipped to a gray and red stubble. His tongue, once used for tasting blood and preaching occult sermons, was silent."
Over time, Capote's credibility has faded a bit. People he interviewed said he did not take notes. I take copious notes, and I even took the extra step of reviewing all the transcripts and records, even though I covered the case for more than 20 years, including the original trial.
Just sayin.'
As for my other newly released book, "Vampires, Gators and Wackos, A Florida Newspaperman's Life," well, the title gives you an idea. The inside pages are filled with cases that send chills up the spine, make you scratch your head and wonder about the condition of the human spirit.
It was the invention of a style that came to be known as "New Journalism."
Written in 1965, it tells the story of two criminal losers who murder the Clutter farm family in a botched robbery in Kansas in 1959.
Listen to his writing voice: "Ordinarily, Mr. Clutter's mornings began at six-thirty; clanging milk pails and the whispery chatter of theh boys who brought them."
He described one of the killers this way: "Like Mr. Clutter, the young man breakfasting in a cafe called the Little Jewel never drank coffee. He preferred root beer. Three aspirin, cold root beer, and a chain of Pall Mall cigarettes--that was his notion of a proper 'chow down.'"
I don't pretend to be Capote, but I like to think I can string a few words together to make an interesting sentence.
The following is from my book, "Cold Blooded, A True Crime Story of a Murderous Teen Vampire Cult."
"Rod Ferrell lowered his head on Nov. 18, 2019, as he walked across the courtroom. It was not from shame. He was watching where he stepped, so he would not tangle the chains of his leg irons. It is the kind of thing you learn in prison after more than twenty years if you don't learn anything else.
"The former teen vampire cult leader was wearing a faded orange jumpsuit. At thirty-nine, he looked faded, even with a prison yard suntan. His formerly long, dyed black hair was clipped to a gray and red stubble. His tongue, once used for tasting blood and preaching occult sermons, was silent."
Over time, Capote's credibility has faded a bit. People he interviewed said he did not take notes. I take copious notes, and I even took the extra step of reviewing all the transcripts and records, even though I covered the case for more than 20 years, including the original trial.
Just sayin.'
As for my other newly released book, "Vampires, Gators and Wackos, A Florida Newspaperman's Life," well, the title gives you an idea. The inside pages are filled with cases that send chills up the spine, make you scratch your head and wonder about the condition of the human spirit.
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