by Jason Joyner | Jul 14, 2011 | Blog, CFBA, fiction, J Mark Bertrand, Pattern Of Wounds, reviews, why are detectives always hard-boiled?, writing craft
Sophmore slump?
Look somewhere else.
J. Mark Bertrand hit the CBA scene big-time with last year’s
Back On Murder. I
reviewed it here, and it ended up as one of my favorite books of the year.
His latest book, Pattern Of Wounds, looks to continue the…pattern.
Houston homicide detective Roland March is still battling. A year ago he was on the verge of being booted out of his department. He solved a high-profile case and solidified his position, but he isn’t out of the woods yet. His lieutenant is riding him, and his captain is angling for a promotion, leaving March on an island.
When he responds to a woman’s body found patially floating in a pool, he sees more than any other investigator. He sees a parallel to a murder he worked 10 years ago, one that was popularized in a true crime book.
He works the leads in the case, but promising trails grow cold. Another detective suggests a serial killer link, one that includes his old case – meaning the wrong person could be in jail.
March presses ahead, determined to prove the doubters wrong, but he may be alienating allies in the process. Even as the killer presses a little too close to home, March struggles to see the pattern of wounds in time.
—
I said last year that Bertrand was pushing some boundaries of Christian fiction. I hold to that statement this year, but I want to clarify it: he is pushing the borders of quality, not just borders of content.
I don’t read a lot of this genre, the hard-boiled detective mystery. However, if I knew it was all like Bertrand’s work, I would have to change. He has elevated his craft since the first book. The book is told in the first person view of March. Bertrand keeps March as a character we empathize with, even as he has demons and conflict, and a few views or habits we may not like. He’s real, he has the feel of a real homicide detective. It isn’t sugar-coated, but it is gritty without being gratuitous.
The plot moves along nicely, not a burning pace, but evenly stretched between action, investigation, and introspection. He paints wonderful detail to place us in March’s eyes. I underlined a line mentioning “a puff of [shaving cream] foam clinging to the cap.” Such a small detail, but it helped me see the eagle eye March has as a detective.
The book is deeper than a crime drama. The title is a powerful metaphor for the case March is working on and the battles in his life. He’s wounded, and in showing us his dirty laundry, it allows for exploration of why evil exists, the power of faith, and the struggle of life.
There was one complaint – a thread that was developed for a time early on seemed to disappear in the end. I like books that don’t tie every thread into a tidy little bow, but this wasn’t loose, it seemed lost. It wasn’t a big deal – I didn’t realize until after finishing, but I wanted to temper my otherwise high enthusiasm for this book.
Bottom line: if I wrote crime fiction, I would study Mark Bertrand’s novels, because the craft and enjoyment springing from that is so good. If you like this genre at all, you should really check this book out. Even if it isn’t your main reading flavor, it is worth reading.
—
Legal mumbo-jumbo: I received a copy of this book from the publisher in return for promotion via the CFBA Tour, but with no promise of a good review. My thoughts are my own (anyone else wouldn’t want them anyway!)
by Jason Joyner | Jul 14, 2011 | Blog, CFBA, fiction, J Mark Bertrand, Pattern Of Wounds, reviews, why are detectives always hard-boiled?, writing craft
Sophmore slump?
Look somewhere else.
J. Mark Bertrand hit the CBA scene big-time with last year’s
Back On Murder. I
reviewed it here, and it ended up as one of my favorite books of the year.
His latest book, Pattern Of Wounds, looks to continue the…pattern.
Houston homicide detective Roland March is still battling. A year ago he was on the verge of being booted out of his department. He solved a high-profile case and solidified his position, but he isn’t out of the woods yet. His lieutenant is riding him, and his captain is angling for a promotion, leaving March on an island.
When he responds to a woman’s body found patially floating in a pool, he sees more than any other investigator. He sees a parallel to a murder he worked 10 years ago, one that was popularized in a true crime book.
He works the leads in the case, but promising trails grow cold. Another detective suggests a serial killer link, one that includes his old case – meaning the wrong person could be in jail.
March presses ahead, determined to prove the doubters wrong, but he may be alienating allies in the process. Even as the killer presses a little too close to home, March struggles to see the pattern of wounds in time.
—
I said last year that Bertrand was pushing some boundaries of Christian fiction. I hold to that statement this year, but I want to clarify it: he is pushing the borders of quality, not just borders of content.
I don’t read a lot of this genre, the hard-boiled detective mystery. However, if I knew it was all like Bertrand’s work, I would have to change. He has elevated his craft since the first book. The book is told in the first person view of March. Bertrand keeps March as a character we empathize with, even as he has demons and conflict, and a few views or habits we may not like. He’s real, he has the feel of a real homicide detective. It isn’t sugar-coated, but it is gritty without being gratuitous.
The plot moves along nicely, not a burning pace, but evenly stretched between action, investigation, and introspection. He paints wonderful detail to place us in March’s eyes. I underlined a line mentioning “a puff of [shaving cream] foam clinging to the cap.” Such a small detail, but it helped me see the eagle eye March has as a detective.
The book is deeper than a crime drama. The title is a powerful metaphor for the case March is working on and the battles in his life. He’s wounded, and in showing us his dirty laundry, it allows for exploration of why evil exists, the power of faith, and the struggle of life.
There was one complaint – a thread that was developed for a time early on seemed to disappear in the end. I like books that don’t tie every thread into a tidy little bow, but this wasn’t loose, it seemed lost. It wasn’t a big deal – I didn’t realize until after finishing, but I wanted to temper my otherwise high enthusiasm for this book.
Bottom line: if I wrote crime fiction, I would study Mark Bertrand’s novels, because the craft and enjoyment springing from that is so good. If you like this genre at all, you should really check this book out. Even if it isn’t your main reading flavor, it is worth reading.
—
Legal mumbo-jumbo: I received a copy of this book from the publisher in return for promotion via the CFBA Tour, but with no promise of a good review. My thoughts are my own (anyone else wouldn’t want them anyway!)
by Jason Joyner | Jul 6, 2011 | Athena Grayson, Blog, breakfast food analogies, links, Mike Duran, writing craft
Amazing how a holiday throws a person out of sync…
Anyhoo.
I came across a few interesting posts last week I wanted to share. Food for thought. I don’t necessarily agree 100% with everything, but I’m always up for seeing people think about issues!
I recently found an old internet pal (old being relative on the net…) was blogging regularly about writing. I’d like to introduce you to
Athena Grayson, and she has a great post on
evaluating your beliefs as a writer, and trying to understand the opposite perception. We all have messages to share in our fiction, and we don’t want them to be preachy. If we can see other views a little more, we can work more realistic and rounded characters into our stories. Good stuff – especially since it references
The Schwartz!
Finally, I saw that Novel Journey was announcing some major changes. It seems they are rebranding somewhat to be bigger and better, and are now known as
Novel Rocket! It seems the journey gets a boost here – so check out the new swag!
There’s always good stuff out there for the writing world (since if we’re not writing books, we’re writing blogs. Or tweets. Or cereal boxes…) I’ll try to keep the best ones coming to your attention.
by Jason Joyner | Jul 6, 2011 | Athena Grayson, Blog, breakfast food analogies, links, Mike Duran, writing craft
Amazing how a holiday throws a person out of sync…
Anyhoo.
I came across a few interesting posts last week I wanted to share. Food for thought. I don’t necessarily agree 100% with everything, but I’m always up for seeing people think about issues!
I recently found an old internet pal (old being relative on the net…) was blogging regularly about writing. I’d like to introduce you to
Athena Grayson, and she has a great post on
evaluating your beliefs as a writer, and trying to understand the opposite perception. We all have messages to share in our fiction, and we don’t want them to be preachy. If we can see other views a little more, we can work more realistic and rounded characters into our stories. Good stuff – especially since it references
The Schwartz!
Finally, I saw that Novel Journey was announcing some major changes. It seems they are rebranding somewhat to be bigger and better, and are now known as
Novel Rocket! It seems the journey gets a boost here – so check out the new swag!
There’s always good stuff out there for the writing world (since if we’re not writing books, we’re writing blogs. Or tweets. Or cereal boxes…) I’ll try to keep the best ones coming to your attention.
by Jason Joyner | Jun 15, 2011 | Blog, fiction, is it time to eat yet?, overdone analogies, writing craft
We just finished our kitchen.
Maybe “we” is a misnomer. My wife did all of the leg work to pick out everything with the design, and the contractors did the heavy lifting. I…stayed out of their hair. It was better that way.
I am not a construction type of guy. If a home improvement video says a job will take 1-2 hours, that means all day for me. So, I don’t do that sort of thing unless there’s no other option! This means I’m not familiar with the process of building.
It was fascinating to come home from work each day and see the layers stripped down. First the cabinets, then the old floor, then the sub-floor. The sheet rock, plaster, electrical, plumbing. The foundation wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world.
Then it started changing. The sheet rock guy did the mudding, adding texture. Now there was some dynamic going on, instead of being flat. He did the basic painting, and now it seems like we’re getting somewhere!
The cabinets came next, and it fleshed out everything, allowing a place for all the little things a kitchen needs. Then the counters. Now it can carry some weight.
The flooring was laid, and the path became clear. Still, the painter had to do the little touch-ups at the end to make everything finished.
I think you can see where I’m going with this…
I was taken by the relationship to building this new kitchen to building a novel. It wasn’t completely brand new – the old foundation and walls were still there. However, it took a process to get to the end product, and it wasn’t always apparent how it was going to turn out. The care my wife took in looking at all the options created a beautiful setting.
I know as I slowly chip away at what I want in the story, I find twists and turns. Some things don’t work out as planned. Some choices make it worse. I realize I’m still in stages where it hasn’t all come together yet.
It was a relief to get cabinets in, and the countertops set, but that wasn’t the end point. What makes the kitchen is the little touches – the decorative pieces set into the backsplash, the glaze on the cabinets, the edging on the counters. A writer can get by with the functional pieces in place, but the novel can only reach its full potential if the time is taken to work the little details into the otherwise sturdy workmanship.
My wife is very pleased with how it came out. I’m happy for her, I enjoy the kitchen, but I’m just happy to have regular cooking again! I could have been satisfied enough with less, but it is so much more due to her vision.
I hope to keep this thought in mind as I go through the different levels of working my story.
—
by Jason Joyner | Jun 15, 2011 | Blog, fiction, is it time to eat yet?, overdone analogies, writing craft
We just finished our kitchen.
Maybe “we” is a misnomer. My wife did all of the leg work to pick out everything with the design, and the contractors did the heavy lifting. I…stayed out of their hair. It was better that way.
I am not a construction type of guy. If a home improvement video says a job will take 1-2 hours, that means all day for me. So, I don’t do that sort of thing unless there’s no other option! This means I’m not familiar with the process of building.
It was fascinating to come home from work each day and see the layers stripped down. First the cabinets, then the old floor, then the sub-floor. The sheet rock, plaster, electrical, plumbing. The foundation wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world.
Then it started changing. The sheet rock guy did the mudding, adding texture. Now there was some dynamic going on, instead of being flat. He did the basic painting, and now it seems like we’re getting somewhere!
The cabinets came next, and it fleshed out everything, allowing a place for all the little things a kitchen needs. Then the counters. Now it can carry some weight.
The flooring was laid, and the path became clear. Still, the painter had to do the little touch-ups at the end to make everything finished.
I think you can see where I’m going with this…
I was taken by the relationship to building this new kitchen to building a novel. It wasn’t completely brand new – the old foundation and walls were still there. However, it took a process to get to the end product, and it wasn’t always apparent how it was going to turn out. The care my wife took in looking at all the options created a beautiful setting.
I know as I slowly chip away at what I want in the story, I find twists and turns. Some things don’t work out as planned. Some choices make it worse. I realize I’m still in stages where it hasn’t all come together yet.
It was a relief to get cabinets in, and the countertops set, but that wasn’t the end point. What makes the kitchen is the little touches – the decorative pieces set into the backsplash, the glaze on the cabinets, the edging on the counters. A writer can get by with the functional pieces in place, but the novel can only reach its full potential if the time is taken to work the little details into the otherwise sturdy workmanship.
My wife is very pleased with how it came out. I’m happy for her, I enjoy the kitchen, but I’m just happy to have regular cooking again! I could have been satisfied enough with less, but it is so much more due to her vision.
I hope to keep this thought in mind as I go through the different levels of working my story.
—
When he responds to a woman’s body found patially floating in a pool, he sees more than any other investigator. He sees a parallel to a murder he worked 10 years ago, one that was popularized in a true crime book.