Research by Dana King

Research is typically either an author’s favorite pursuit or a tedious burden. Sometimes both. Among the problems are the eternal, unanswerable questions: how much needs to go into the book, and how to get it in.

 

I think of two separate levels of research when I’m putting together a Penns River police procedural novel, of which White Out is the most recent. (July 11 from Down & Out Books.)

 

The higher level includes the actual police procedure, and how cops think and react. This I enjoy, because it gives me an excuse to do things I’d do anyway. I love to read cops’ memoirs, or books intended to enlighten laymen on how police do things. Either of Adam Plantinga’s books, or anything by Connie Fletcher comes to mind. Edward Conlon’s Blue Blood, Del Quentin Wilbur’s A Good Month for Murder, and David Simon’s classic Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets get periodic re-reads. True, the books become more dated every day, but the core principles of police work and how cops think don’t change all that much.

 

Fiction plays a role, too. Anything by Ed McBain or Joseph Wambaugh will provide insight into both procedure and personality. Mark Bergin’s Apprehension, Frank Zafiro’s River City books, Colin Conway’s 509 series, and Bruce Coffin’s Detective Byron mysteries all give accurate and informative accounts of life as a police officer. In visual media, The Wire, Bosch, and NYPD Blue are treasure troves. As above, these become more dated all the time (especially the TV shows, some of which are already twenty-plus years old), but the core truth of, to use Wambaugh’s famous phrase, “how the cases work on the cops,” doesn’t change much. The secret when using fiction as research is to use fiction that gets things right. Shows like CSI and NCIS do not fall into this category.

 

How best to use all this information? Between the lines as much as possible. The purpose of high-level research is to inform the author more than the reader. The deeper your background knowledge is, the more authoritative your writing will be, and that’s critical if you’re writing procedurals and are not yourself a cop. I am constantly looking for little things I can drop in that will lend an aura of expertise to a scene. The intent is to write lines the average reader might not notice but will cause a knowledgeable person to nod their head and think “He gets it.” Not only will it improve your credibility with professionals, readers pick up on it subconsciously.

 

The closer research is more specific. This is when I take time to look up specific things to ensure I got them right, or to be as fair as possible. The basic story of White Out is what happens after a Black patrol officer shoots and kills a white man, which provokes a white supremacist rally for the funeral. I spend as little time as possible (read: none) dealing with white supremacists, so I needed to do some research into the organizations, their structure, and some of their talking points. (The Southern Poverty Law Center is an excellent source for such information.)

 

The organizer of the rally makes several incendiary remarks during the book. I don’t speak fluent racist, so research was in order. I also stepped back a couple of times to make sure I hadn’t put words in his mouth that might lead someone to paint my depiction as unfair, thus tarnishing everything else I said. That required looking up actual statements to make sure I’d not crossed a line. (For what it’s worth, I only ever scratched the surface. There’s no bottom to these guys.)

 

Research can become a rationalization to procrastinate, so be careful with the reasons for doing it. That’s why I prefer most of mine to be of the the overarching, more general research that can be done any time, often as part of my recreational reading. (No writer’s reading is purely recreational.) Then I drill down as much as necessary to make this book work. Sometimes that’s a lot. Sometimes very little. The key thing to remember is that the research must serve the story and not the other way around.

 

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Dana King writes the Penns River series of police procedurals, the newest of which is White Out. He has also earned two Shamus Award nominations for his Nick Forte private investigator novels. His work has appeared in outlets such as Thuglit and Mystery Tribune and numerous anthologies, most recently The Eviction of Hope. You can get to know him better on his website (https://danakingauthor.com/), blog (https://danaking.blogspot.com/), Facebook page ( DanaKingBooks), or Twitter (@DanaKingAuthor).

Keeping A Mystery Series Fresh by Dana King

Leaving the Scene (May 17 from Down & Out Books) is my sixth Penns River police procedural. The seventh book in the series is in final revisions, and I have notes for two more. Well into the series with no end in sight, I am acutely aware that a series this long can go stale if the author doesn’t work to prevent it.  

What’s a writer to do in this situation? I doubt anyone has a definitive solution (I know I don’t), but here are a few things I do in an effort to keep the stories fresh and the telling varied as the series progresses.

 

What I call Penns River is an amalgam of the three small Western Pennsylvania cities I grew up in. I haven’t lived there in years, but my ties to the area remain strong through Facebook, the web edition of the local newspaper, regional websites, and, until recently, several trips a year to visit my parents. The Beloved Spouse™ kids me about my accent (“warsh” slips into conversations more as I age), and my allegiance to Pittsburgh sports teams remains undiminished. I still think of myself as a Pennsylvanian even though I moved away when I joined the Army in 1980. Writing about the area is, for me, the ultimate example of “write what you know,” and there’s always something else to remember.

 

Because Penns River is based on real towns, the local news is a constant source of material. Among the events I pulled out of the newspaper for Leaving the Scene are:

o   Stolen heavy construction equipment.

o   A naked man (well, he did have one sock on) covered with cooking oil.

o   Random stolen flags.

o   A local business robbed by two men wearing Star Wars masks.

A previous book depicted a young man shot in the buttocks by his father to conclude an argument that began across town over who ate the last of the chocolate chip cookies.

 

I couldn’t make these things up. I need only find entertaining ways to describe them. So long as things continue to happen in the Alle-Kiski Valley, I’ll have fresh material.

 

Primary protagonist Ben “Doc” Dougherty isn’t going anywhere; everyone else is fair game. Leaving the Scene opens at the chief’s retirement party. In addition to his replacement, a new patrol officer comes to town, and one that’s been around for a while gets a promotion. I’m also not above killing a series regular. I’ve done it before, and I’m in the process of doing it again.

 

I look for different ways to tell the story. Leaving the Scene, for example, has no chapters as such. The point of the book is to show how day-to-day events can sidetrack even a homicide investigation, so I broke the book out by dates, and time of day, to keep the reader aware of the passage of time and the constant interruptions.

 

Changing the scope also helps. Some books reflect national concerns viewed through the lens of a small town. Some are straight-up mysteries. A few are bits of both. Pushing Water was primarily about an active shooter investigation, with a secondary story that involved a Mountie in pursuit of a Canadian fugitive. Leaving the Scene is all local. The work in progress focuses on what happens after a Black officer shoots and kills a white supremacist.

 

This is why I’ve spent more time on Penns River than Nick Forte PI stories lately, even though Forte has earned me a couple of Shamus Award nominations. There’s always something new in Penns River, and those new stories make me look for the best ways to tell them. Forte lives in a somewhat more stagnant pool from which to draw ideas. I have one I like on the back burner, though, so another appearance may be imminent. So long as it’s not too much like what’s come before.

 

Leaving the Scene is Dana King’s sixth Penns River novel. He also writes the Nick Forte private investigator novels, two of which earned Shamus Award nominations from the Private Eye Writers of America. His work has appeared in numerous anthologies, most recently The Eviction of Hope. You can get to know him better on his website, blog, Facebook page or Twitter (@DanaKingAuthor).

 

 Dana King’s Leaving the Scene delivers the goods—a procedural packed with smart dialogue, sharp plotting, and a vivid humanity that brings to mind the best of McBain, Wambaugh, and Connelly.

--James D. F. Hannah, Shamus Award-winning author of the Henry Malone series