The Imperial Power of the Judicial System

One of the staples in mysteries, particularly on TV, is the courtroom scene, where the hero lawyer, or detective, is often at first undermined by their adversary, only to later present crucial evidence that spells finis for the bad guy. Like other steps necessary to the solving of a crime--forensics, interrogations, surveillance--for the sake of the story, the judicial process is abbreviated accordingly. 

Not too recently, I had the unfortunate opportunity to get more acquainted with our judicial system. The process began when a friend was busted though was not taken in for custody. Months passed and he hoped that somehow he'd fallen through the administrative cracks. Then one Friday, he got a call from the Sheriff's Office that a warrant had been issued for his arrest and he had until Monday to turn himself in. Needless to say, that news made for a very somber weekend. 

It wasn't until he was in jail that his family learned what the charges were and the size of his bond. While he spent the night behind bars, his family scrambled to find a bail bondsman and arrange paying the bail. Once free on bond, he had to wait several months for his first day in court. 

At the announced time, a group of us arrived at the courthouse as his emotional support crew. It was a sobering moment to see his name on the flat screen listing the day's docket, one of many defendants to appear that afternoon in the same courtroom. On TV, or in the movies, the courtroom scene is distilled into dramatic showdowns. But in real life, the process drags on through the Arraignment, then a month later for the Plea, then another month for the Disposition Hearing, plus more months for additional hearings, and because my friend pled guilty, there was no trial, only the Judge's final sentencing. Along the way, the court calendar may get jammed up so the judge, or any of the attorneys, could ask for a delay, which pushes back the proceedings another month. Meanwhile, the meter is running for the defense counsel's tab. 

 

ChatGPT

What impressed me, though not in a comforting way, was a recognition of the court's imperial power and that it projected a force as real and irresistible as gravity. I'm sure most of us have received jury summons and we arrive to the courthouse at the designated hour, well aware of the penalties of the failure to appear. That sense of imperial power was magnified during my friend's criminal proceedings. Failing to abide by the judge's word, or by the law, and men with guns will hunt you down and drag you before the bench. To illustrate that point was the menacing presence of the bailiffs, two muscular deputies ensconced in armored vests festooned with weapons and ammunition. Seeing them brought to mind a Roman functionary ordering his Legionnaires to fetch a citizen and haul him to the palace. To further ratchet up the sense of Imperial Power, and the implied message--FAFO--I thought, why not dress up the bailiffs in Roman helmets, lorica, tunics, and arm them with spears and swords.  

Though no one will command you to attend, if you're in the area please drop by West Side Books in Denver on Friday, June 5, 2026, for A Night of the Strange, featuring local authors Molly Tanzer, Steven Dunn, Jon Bassoff, and me. It'll be better than time in jail.

 

 

Learn to Take Nothing for Granted

 2026 makes the 20th anniversary of my career as a professional writer. In those two decades, one can get jaded about plans foiled, marketing campaigns that sputtered out, expectations dimmed. I mean, my original goal was to become so outrageously wealthy in this writing game that I could hire Stephen King to clean my house. I even published an essay about it. Those riches never came to pass. But I have learned to count my blessings and embrace my successes however humble they may be to others. 

Last Saturday I was a panelist at In Conversation With Lisa Gardner, #1 New York Times Best-selling author. I'd been invited by Sean Eads, a librarian (and author) with the JeffCo Public Library, which hosted the event in the Teel Sanctuary at the Mile Hi Church in Lakewood, CO. For the panel, I was one of six local authors, four were well-established writers: Jon Bassoff, Kristin Koval, Mark Stevens, and Cynthia Swanson, and the fifth, the emcee Carter Wilson, himself highly acclaimed in the thriller genre.

When sitting behind the panel table and looking onto the audience, I made it a point to thank those who had taken time from their Saturday afternoon to attend and thank those from the library and the church staff responsible for the marketing and logistics that made the event possible. In the course of an hour presentation, we couldn't speak in depth about writing and publishing, but Carter Wilson is a skilled moderator and did a great job asking questions that ranged beyond the usual topics. Afterwards, Carter interviewed Lisa and the zoom audience who had tuned-in numbered over 500!

Being a panel of local authors, over the years I've met them all before except for Kristin Koval, and so it was a pleasure getting acquainted with another writer. It was also a pleasure to meet the headliner, Lisa Gardner, who was eminently gracious and sociable. 

Group selfie from the Green Room. From left, back row: Mark Steven, Sean Eads, me, Carter Wilson, Jon Bassoff. Front row: Kristin Koval, Cynthia Swanson, Lisa Gardner.

As we writers toil for years in solitude, it's encouraging to get out in public and have people show up to give us a listen. I count that as a success.

 

I'll Drink to That...Not Any More.

An inseparable component of writer lore is drinking. Ernest Hemingway and his daiquiris. Charles Bukowski and his boilermakers. Dorothy Parker and her scotch. To celebrate the drafting of the Constitution, the Founding Fathers consumed legendary quantities of wine. 

When we think of nostalgic writer tropes, there's the typewriter, a wooden desk, wads of discarded manuscript paper, smoke curling from a cigarette parked in an ashtray, and a bottle of hooch nearby. The typewriter and paper have been replaced by a laptop, the wooden desk exists in one form or another, few of us smoke, but a bottle of some adult beverage remains at hand. I remember fondly the opening and closing parties of Lighthouse Litfest, with dozens of us writers crammed on the porch, drinks at the ready. Seems like the best conversations at writer conventions happen at bar con, us scribes nursing cocktails, either bellyaching about the publishing industry or trading gossip. Good times. 

Which for me have come to an end, sadly. About a year ago I began to get a headache after consuming even small amounts of spirits, followed by a mild hangover. I tried different alcohols and mixes but the results were the same. I laid off drinking for several weeks, hoping it might be a passing reaction. Unfortunately, no. The evening after I buried Dirk, if there was ever an occasion for a drink, this was the time, so I sipped a half-glass of red wine. The headache made its dreadful appearance, and the next day I suffered a double whammy from the hangover plus the guilt of losing my sweet, handsome dog.

Teetotalers relentlessly preach the evils of King Alcohol. The ethyl alcohol in liquor is toxic to your liver. A hangover is symptomatic of the poisoning. The long and heavy consumption of alcohol can cause cirrhosis. Also consider the effects on your brain not to mention impaired decision-making and lives ruined by alcoholism.

On the other hand, before the first bread was ever made, people were already imbibing beer or mead. The early cavemen looked forward to their daily cups to celebrate surviving the prehistoric wilderness. Every culture in the world has some form of fermented beverage. Few things smooth the rough edges of putting up with our fellow human beings like a little sauce.

Despite the screeching by modern-day Temperance scolds, people who drink light to moderate amounts of booze tend to enjoy longer and happier lives. Why? Because alcohol is a social lubricant. Those types of drinkers are better adjusted, more emotionally grounded, and more fun to be around. And frankly, I miss wine tastings and happy hour cocktails.

If you're not drinking and are in the Denver area, mark these events on your calendar.

The Scorned Lovers Anti-Valentine's Show at Prismajic. 

Erotic readings from the works of Kim Kennedy and Helen Hardt with interpretive burlesque. Romance advice from the Love Sultan. Fire dance. The bashing of the Scorned Lovers Piñata, filled with naughty gifts. Fashion. Music. Cocktails. An Immersive Art Experience.

Friday the 13th, February, 2026. 7-10pm  Tickets online $20. Get them here.

Check out the Jefferson County Library's In Conversation with Lisa Gardner, emceed by Carter Wilson, along with a panel of local authors, including me.

Saturday, February 21. Noon to 4pm. Mile Hi Church, Lakewood, CO. Register here.   

 

 

 

 

The Art of the Blurb

 Once you've been published and have achieved even a modest amount of fame, you'll be asked by another writer to provide a blurb. Sometimes the request might be uncomfortable because it comes from a writer whose work you aren't familiar with, or by a writer you don't think much of. In that latter case, a good excuse is to claim that you're too busy... a brush-off I've heard more than once. 

There's an art to writing a blurb. The premise for a blurb is to generate interest in the book by leveraging the technique sales people call a third-party endorsement. It needs to deliver the theme or ethos of the story, be punchy, memorable, part logline and part advertising jingle. Less is more. A blurb by a famous author or celebrity could certainly juice sales. In that regard, I'm bemused other writers think that a blurb by me would get a prospective reader to buy their book. Still, I'm honored that anyone would think enough of me to ask for a blurb and I take each chance as an opportunity to excel.

Here are some of my favorites:

"Supernatural intrigue and criminal mayhem that ricochets from double-cross to double-cross." Paradox by Jeanne Stein

"A twisted, kinetic escapade through darkness and danger." The Legend of Carl Draco, by Gary Reilly

"Humane and brutal but never false...an illuminating critique of American history and myth." Mad Boy by Nick Arvin

"A labyrinth of misdirection and treachery." Angels in the Winds: A Mile High Noir by Manuel Ramos.

You've hit the mark when your blurb gets picked for the book's cover as what happened with these two:

"A quirky and thoughtful reflection on what it means to be human." Fated, by S.G. Brown 

"Raw. Visceral. Compelling. As unforgettable as a stabbing." Ex-KOP by Warren Hammond

And the latest, which I'm especially proud of: