I took the last two days off from writing, either my novel or my blog, due to being under the weather. It's now time to get back to work. I'm going to include a bit of my writing (from my novel) every Friday. Because I did not blog yesterday I'm doing it today. The following is an exercise I did to get my creative juices flowing. I was stuck and so I wrote some dialogue and explanatory prose that I might be able to use in my novel. It is my two main characters, Tom McDermott and Stan Sarnicki, NYPD detectives, discussing the questioning of Derek Munch's (the murder victim) friends, family and neighbors. Here it is:

I was exhausted. Stan and I had split up and canvassed all of Derek Munch's neighbors, friends, family, girlfriends old and new, parents and his one surviving grandparent. We spoke with his shrink and his dentist, the guy he bought his morning coffee from, the girl who cut his hair, anyone who knew him. We would even have spoken to his cat but she wasn't talking. And we had nothing, not as far as I could tell. We were back to square one and no one was happy, not us, not Lt. Jackson, not the mayor. It was a hell of a day.

"Somebody knows something, someone's holding out on us" I said, more to myself than Stan or anyone else within listening distance.

"You think Tommy? Geez, I've got a genius for a partner."

I ignored his sarcasm; he gets like that when he's tired...or frustrated. Confronting it only makes it worse. I've made that mistake too many times.

"Stan, we need to go back out tomorrow and start all over again. Talk to everyone again. One of them knows who killed Munch. He or she may not have helped the perp but they know who he is. And they'll break sooner or later. Somebody's got to crack."

"At the moment I don't want to think about it or talk it out. I've got a headache, I'm tired and I'm frustrated." Confirmation of the state I thought he was in...Tom McDermott, genius detective. "Let's go have a beer at Pete's."

A "beer" at Pete's for Stan usually meant five or six beers, plus shots. When Stan got his load on all the demons he kept tightly locked up in a back room buried deep in his psyche came screeching out, causing the kind of havoc you never want to see. I had seen it far too often. This was shaping up to be a long night.
__________________________

Let me tell you who I read when I read mysteries. James Lee Burke is my favorite. He writes very literate mysteries, featuring Cajun detective Dave Robicheaux. Robicheaux is a detective with the Iberia Parish (Louisiana) Sheriff's deparment and an ex NOPD police officer. I recommend all of Mr. Burke's books. I don't think he's ever written a bad one.

I also like all of Raymond Chandler, most of Robert B. Parker's Spenser series and Robert Crais' Elvis Cole mysteries set in Los Angeles.

Of course there is only so much you can take of the wiseass detective genre so I also read Michael Connelly, especially his Harry Bosch novels. Harry Bosch is an LAPD detective and Mr. Connelly's novels can be fairly dark. I've also recently been reading David Fulmer's books. Mr. Fulmer has a few different mysteries but I like his Valentin St. Cyr series the best. They are set in the New Orleans of the early 1900s, specifically the red light district known as Storyville. They are full of period detail that make you believe you are actually in turn of the century New Orleans. If you read Mr. Fulmer I recommend staring with Chasing the Devil's Tail.