Today I finally finished Thomas Thompson's epic true crime novel 'Blood and Money'. And indeed, it was epic. Chronicling a series of murders in Texas in the late 60's through the early 70's, it mythologizes available information leading up to the events and well into what became their settled conclusion. As each character is introduced we see their stories through the lens of a sort of tragic fatalism, certain to fall on one side or the other of the brutality that took both the opulent socialites and the seedy and unscrupulous bottom-feeders and cast them all into a wasteland of lies and self-servitude. What's amazing to me is that Thomas Thompson only barely suggests each individual's implications through his approach a slight-of-hand that at least gives the illusion of objectivity. The story does indeed end, though it is left largely up to the reader to draw conclusions from the information provided about whom to exonerate and whom to convict.
I discovered this book after reading Roger Ebert's review of David Fincher's 'Zodiac' earlier this summer, in which the former said that both 'Blood' and 'Zodiac' understood how to create tension through character and patiently peeling back the layers of the case and ensuing investigation. I'm glad I read Thompson's book, though I'll probably benefit most from the first half in which we see the tapestry of the lush world in which the original victim's inhabit rather than the latter in which the trial laboriously dissects the details and those suspected of involvement in the murders.
I love when I read a good book. I don't like when I read a book that seems like it needs more work. It frustrates me, and it feels jarring, and in a possibly neurotic way I feel it pollutes my creative thoughts about my own work for at least a short time. I always feel like I have to do a sort of detox after this kind of negative experience, and I have to watch a movie or read a book I already know is good just to reset things. It's weird, I know. Creating ideas, worlds, characters, etc. through writing, for me, is a fragile process, and experiencing projects that suck can sometimes disrupt that process. These days I no longer seem to read for enjoyment but rather to learn something specific pertaining to a story on which I'm currently working. 'Blood' had much to offer me in terms of narrative structure and how to create tragic irony through distancing from the character, and I needed no detox after reading it.
Then, on a roll and reading-rush from finishing the book at long last, I dove head first into 'The Man From Beijing'. Granted, I'm only about 35 pages into this book, but still I have to say I'm not entirely excited about this story. Having read earlier this year what to me feels like a modern crime classic in 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo', Henning Mankil's novel seems already as though it would have benefited from the less-is-more mentality, beginning with (and this is not spoiling anything the back cover won't tell you) no less than nineteen murders. It seems determined to hammer home the disturbing nature of the crime but it feels a bit ham-handed, and the characters feel just a bit too quickly sketched and a little...familiar...?
I'll finish it, though, if nothing else because I'm weird and think that if I start a book and don't finish it I'm a failure. What I really, really, REALLY need to do, though, is finish my own damn outlines for my own damn work. 'Polemic' has a solid outline that I'm satisfied with. I'm still trying to suture together some details in the middle, but I think the overall architecture works fairly well. But 'Raccoon City', the bane of my existence, still eludes me on what works best. As Kristen would say, analysis paralysis. The story is there, I just have to tell it already.
The end of August will be here before we know it...
I discovered this book after reading Roger Ebert's review of David Fincher's 'Zodiac' earlier this summer, in which the former said that both 'Blood' and 'Zodiac' understood how to create tension through character and patiently peeling back the layers of the case and ensuing investigation. I'm glad I read Thompson's book, though I'll probably benefit most from the first half in which we see the tapestry of the lush world in which the original victim's inhabit rather than the latter in which the trial laboriously dissects the details and those suspected of involvement in the murders.
I love when I read a good book. I don't like when I read a book that seems like it needs more work. It frustrates me, and it feels jarring, and in a possibly neurotic way I feel it pollutes my creative thoughts about my own work for at least a short time. I always feel like I have to do a sort of detox after this kind of negative experience, and I have to watch a movie or read a book I already know is good just to reset things. It's weird, I know. Creating ideas, worlds, characters, etc. through writing, for me, is a fragile process, and experiencing projects that suck can sometimes disrupt that process. These days I no longer seem to read for enjoyment but rather to learn something specific pertaining to a story on which I'm currently working. 'Blood' had much to offer me in terms of narrative structure and how to create tragic irony through distancing from the character, and I needed no detox after reading it.
Then, on a roll and reading-rush from finishing the book at long last, I dove head first into 'The Man From Beijing'. Granted, I'm only about 35 pages into this book, but still I have to say I'm not entirely excited about this story. Having read earlier this year what to me feels like a modern crime classic in 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo', Henning Mankil's novel seems already as though it would have benefited from the less-is-more mentality, beginning with (and this is not spoiling anything the back cover won't tell you) no less than nineteen murders. It seems determined to hammer home the disturbing nature of the crime but it feels a bit ham-handed, and the characters feel just a bit too quickly sketched and a little...familiar...?
I'll finish it, though, if nothing else because I'm weird and think that if I start a book and don't finish it I'm a failure. What I really, really, REALLY need to do, though, is finish my own damn outlines for my own damn work. 'Polemic' has a solid outline that I'm satisfied with. I'm still trying to suture together some details in the middle, but I think the overall architecture works fairly well. But 'Raccoon City', the bane of my existence, still eludes me on what works best. As Kristen would say, analysis paralysis. The story is there, I just have to tell it already.
The end of August will be here before we know it...
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