Alan Cook's Blog

I didn't start out to write a novella. I was trying to write a third "Charlie and Liz" suspense novel. (The first two are "Trust Me if you Dare" and "East of the Wall.") I wrote about 27 chapters and decided I was on the wrong track, so I started over. I wrote about the same number of chapters again, and again I stopped. Something was wrong.

I decided what I was really writing was a much shorter mystery story called "Death at Monksrest." So I did. It is now published as an Ebook on Amazon Kindle.

It starts with a poem about the legend, which tells of an event that took place about the year 1400 in eastern England. Five monks were walking to Canterbury on a pilgrimage when they stopped to rest, but after an argument one killed the others. The poem states that this monk put a curse on anybody who disturbed the bodies.

Flash forward to the 20st century and the site is now on an ancestral estate called Monksrest. When Emma, the daughter of the current owner is murdered, is this a result of the curse?

Charlie is already in England and is called to Monksrest to console his friend, Reggie, the dead woman's brother. He asks Liz to come over from the States and shed some light on what happened based on her knowledge of history.

When she gets there she finds that Oliver, the current owner of Monksrest, is the only person other than the police who is able to focus on the murder. Liz develops a bond with him as she attempts to figure out what happened, what part, if any, the legend played, and whether there might be further consequences.

"Ich bin ein Berliner." President Kennedy said those words on June 26, 1963 in West Berlin to an estimated audience of as many as 450,000 people. Although the Berlin Wall wouldn’t come down until over 26 years later, the words, “I am a Berliner,” had a positive reaction with his audience, who were obviously hoping that East and West Berlin would be united into one city again. This event, which took place at the same time as my history/suspense novel, East of the Wall, showed that the United States backed the fight for freedom and reunification in Germany.

President Reagan was closer to the demise of the Berlin Wall on June 12, 1987 when he said in a speech in Berlin, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” In 2019, a bronze statue of Reagan was unveiled near the site of his speech.

The end of the Berlin Wall actually came on November 9, 1989 when the East German border guards stopped keeping residents of East Berlin from crossing the Wall into West Berlin and thousands of them streamed through it.East of the Wall

East of the WallEast of the WallThe most effective surveillance organization the world has ever known was probably the Stasi—the East German Secret Police of the German Democratic Republic (GDR), that existed from the end of World War II until 1989. They kept voluminous records on millions of people. As detailed in my suspense novel, East of the Wall, the Stasi had informers located everywhere: apartment buildings, schools and businesses—who fed them information. They were also able to place bugs in people’s apartments without the occupants knowing it.

The records included the usual information we have come to expect the government to have, including birth date, parents, education, address, military experience, job (the GDR always claimed one-hundred percent employment), marriage, children, and more. If you had a lover, if you adjusted your television antenna so that you could receive programs from West Berlin, if you read subversive books or magazines, if you belonged to an organization that didn’t like the government—sooner or later this would go into your Stasi file.

The Stasi used psychological terror and force to control the people they didn’t like: letting the air out of their bicycle tires at night, moving things around in their apartments when they weren’t home, blackmail, and, of course, prison. Occasionally, they would expel a person from the GDR, although it was very difficult for the average person to leave.

The collection and storage methods they used: typed and hand-written folders and notebooks crammed with information and photos, were primitive compared with today’s computerized technology. Which ultimately makes today’s governments, including the United States, scarier. The U.S. government wants to keep all kinds of information on you without ever bothering to show a good reason why it should. Without getting a court order.

Government wants to be able to pick you out of a crowd with facial recognition. It wants to be able to get all the information out of your cellphone, and be able to crack any encryption to do it. It wants to know everywhere you go, everything you do. It wants to do this whether or not you are a criminal. Whether or not there is just cause for it to do this. Just because. Just because it wants to have complete control over you.

High-tech companies who can supply the technology to do these things have shown some reluctance to give the government everything it wants—but will this continue? Will we become a nation of sheep under the control of an authoritarian government? Time will tell.

The Berlin Wall was erected in 1961 to separate East Berlin from West Berlin, and didn’t come down until 1989. The German Democratic Republic (GDR), which is what East Germany called itself, put up the Wall to keep out the fascists in West Berlin. Or so they said. The reality is different.

After World War II ended in 1945, Germany was divided into four sectors, governed by the United States, Soviet Union, United Kingdom and France. The Russian sector became the GDR and was governed as a Socialist state. From 1945 until 1961, millions of the brightest and best inhabitants left the GDR and went to live in West Germany, which included the other three sectors.

So the Wall was actually erected to keep the East Germans in, not to keep the West Germans out. It succeeded all too well. Some East Germans were able to escape, using various methods that took them over, under or through the Wall. Others were shot in the attempt by the sentries at the border. The area known as the Berlin Wall grew wider over the years and contained barbed wire, ferocious dogs, armed sentries and tripwires, as well as powerful searchlights at night.

Speaking of sentries, some of them escaped to the West, since they had the shortest distance to go. There is a famous picture of one of the sentries racing to freedom. Not all the guards were loyal to the GDR.

Many escape attempts are documented at the Checkpoint Charlie Museum. Checkpoint Charlie was the most famous entry point between East and West Berlin. The escapes utilized gliders, planes, hot-air balloons, zip lines, boats, and tunnels. Some men were able to jump onto a moving train. Cars had hidden compartments. A mother wheeled her baby through the checkpoint hidden in a bag in a baby carriage.

One ingenious escape involved a man who rented an Austin Healey convertible, and having found out the height of the metal bar the guards raised to allow cars to pass through to West Berlin, stripped everything off the car above that height and let some air out of the tires. As he approached the customs shed after showing his passport at the checkpoint, instead of stopping he gunned the engine and raced under the bar to safety, along with his fiancée and her mother. Vertical bars were attached to the horizontal bar at the checkpoint after that incident, preventing more escapes.

My book, East of the Wall, takes place in June 1963. It’s part historical fiction and part action/adventure. Charlie and Liz (the protagonists in Trust Me if You Dare), are recruited by the CIA, who haven’t had much luck in the GDR, to go into East Germany and attempt to find information about a secret project from World War II that may have been to develop a weapon of mass destruction.

Their main problems are the Stasi, the East German secret police, who have set up perhaps the best surveillance system the world has ever known. It’s almost impossible to do anything of importance in the GDR without them getting wind of it through their huge group of informers. If the Stasi find out what they are attempting to do, it may be very difficult, if not impossible, for them to return to West.

Although my novel, Trust Me if You Dare, is not intended to be about Socialism, a picture is painted about what a socialistic country is like because the book takes place in 1962 and one of the locations is Cuba. Castro was in power and people were feeling the effects of his rule.

Many people left Cuba by boat when they weren’t permitted to leave voluntarily. For the most part they were trying to get to Florida, but the boats were overcrowded and flimsy, and many lives were lost in the attempt. You don’t risk your life to leave a country where the living is good.

One aspect of Socialism is that the government owns everything and tells everybody what to do. Personal freedom is a meaningless term. Pay is low and food is often scarce. One joke is that the first thing that happens in a socialistic country is a scarcity of toilet paper. Central planning doesn’t work like the free market.

Huell Howser, who broadcast on public television in California, made a video in Cuba in the 1990s. One of the things that struck me was when he visited a farmers’ market that had recently been allowed to open. Food was sold by private citizens who had grown it themselves. A wide variety was available. Then Huell visited a government-owned market. Only a few items were being sold and those didn’t look good enough to eat.

One problem that is alluded to in my book is that doctors are paid so little that female doctors often resort to prostitution to make ends meet. Medical care is supposed to be good, but there are three levels of care: one for Castro and his buddies, one for tourists, and a third for everyone else. Abortions are allowed for any suspected problems in unborn babies, and sometimes done by force, thus ensuring a better survival rate at birth, which looks good in statistics.

After the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts, they had a very high death rate. Everybody was supposed to farm the common land together, but it didn’t work. When Governor Bradford and some of the wiser colonists realized what was happening they changed the system so that every family owned their own land and everything that was produced from it. That’s when the colony started to flourish.

A current example of socialistic failure is Venezuela, where there are no jobs, no money and no food. The local currency is worthless due to hyperinflation. Socialism was successful in zero of many attempts in the twentieth century, and it’s not starting out well in the twenty-first.

I'm feeling kind-hearted and am giving away Kindle copies of my 7th Carol Golden novel, "Your Move." If you have an Amazon Kindle account you can have one if you send me your Amazon Kindle email address: alcook@sprintmail.com Of course, I would appreciate reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Limited time offer (whatever that means).

Somebody is killing people who work for subsidiaries of conglomerate Ault Enterprises and playing some kind of game while doing it. Carol Golden is called on to help identify the killer because she has experience in breaking codes and playing games. Amy O’Connor, a former scam artist and long-distance hiker with an eye for men, becomes her partner by accident, and together they search for clues in interesting places. The hunt takes them to the tops of significant mountain peaks in the United States, including Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the continental U.S., and to other unusual locales such as the thinly populated Lost Coast region of northern California. Carol finds that incidents in her past that are lost to her because of her amnesia may come back to haunt her before she can win this deadly game.

I had never written a book about a serial killer until Your Move, my seventh Carol Golden novel. In writing it I came to realize how scary serial killers are, because once they start killing they will probably continue killing until they are caught—or die.

The Golden State Killer, recently identified using DNA analysis, started killing in the 1970s, but hasn’t killed recently, apparently because he became too old. It’s difficult to commit murder when you’re in a wheelchair. Serial killers used to be hard to catch, but now, using DNA, their days may be numbered. That’s a good thing, but the use of DNA to identify people raises important questions of privacy for us all.

Serial killers are also almost impossible to recognize. Ann Rule writes about serial killer Ted Bundy in The Stranger Beside Me that she once worked with him on a crisis hotline, and that he was charming, sensitive and trustworthy. Of course, these traits made it easier for him to lure his victims. It’s possible he may have starting killing back in his youth when he was a paperboy.

Fortunately, most people who kill others aren’t serial killers. There are many more serial killers depicted on television crime shows than there are in reality. Which brings up the question of whether these shows plus lurid news accounts of real killers make us more fearful of people who at most account for just a few murders a year than of other dangers such as auto accidents that kill thousands of people. Perhaps we’re afraid of the wrong things.

My serial killer in Your Move appears to want to receive recognition for what he does, because he leaves clues that seem to be some sort of puzzle. That’s where Carol Golden comes in because she is a mathematician and puzzle solver. Hopefully, with her help, this person’s career as a serial killer will be a short one.

I recently (January 2018) read A Man for all Markets, a new book by Edward O. Thorp. The reason I knew about Ed is because I read his book, Beat the Dealer, published way back in 1962! Beat the Dealer tells how to win at blackjack using card-counting techniques.

I used some version of Ed’s method off and on for a number of years in Las Vegas and Reno. I never won much money with it but I had a lot of fun. One time when my brother and I were passing through Reno we stopped for 20 minutes so I could play blackjack. I won a few bucks and then we went on our way. Because of that I was a lifetime winner in Reno for many years, until my wife and I went there with our son when he turned 21 so he could try his skill. My wife and I also eloped to Reno to get married, but we weren’t there long enough for me to lose any money. Instead, we went on to the great national parks and played with the bears.

One time I pulled an all-nighter in Las Vegas. I wasn’t betting enough to scare the house—or so I thought—but for some reason they placed a house man in the seat beside me. He didn’t use much subterfuge. He was betting with special house chips and never busted. I’m not sure what his purpose was but at least they didn’t kick me out of the casino. Another time I was kicked off a table so that a drunken high-roller could bet five hands at once. I watched in awe as he lost about $20,000 in 20 minutes. The woman with him said, “Let him play. He won that money earlier.” Well, okay, but Ed would have disapproved.

A Man for all Markets talks about Ed’s career, which includes not only winning at gambling games but also in the stock market—to the tune of nine figures. (See my review on Goodreads.com) He was really good at math and using computers. I’ve never met him, but he once lived very close to where I live before I lived here (he lives in Newport Beach, CA now), and was even a grad student at UCLA when I was there as an undergrad.

I’ve played games all my life, not only card games but others as well, such as backgammon. I play backgammon mostly online against individuals unknown and hold my own. I’ve played in a few tournaments, mostly because I know Patrick Gibson who has been in charge of the Los Angeles tournaments for many years, but even playing at the novice level (meaning much lower than the world-class players who compete in the expert divisions) I’ve never won a penny.

In 1962 my brother, Steve, and I saw a movie called Last Year at Marienbad. In it a man plays a game using cards (you can also use beer bottles or toothpicks or even elephants). He deals rows of 7, 5, 3 and 1 and challenges other people to take one or more cards from a single row. He alternates turns with his opponent. The person who takes the last card loses (although you can also play that the person who takes the last card wins—almost the same strategy), and of course the hustler in the movie always wins.

After the movie, Steve, who is a world-class mathematician, and I figured out how to win with that configuration. Years later, Steve told me the general rule for winning with any configuration. I also found out that the game is called nim, and I’ve used it in some of my novels, especially the Carol Golden novels because Carol is a mathematician and a game player.

Okay, so I’m not a world-class mathematician (or even backgammon player) but I am a world-class nim player. You’ll find that out if you ever challenge me to a game.

The author finds himself in a room, much like a large classroom, but with no windows. The seats are full of men and women with expectant and somewhat hostile faces. The author stands at the podium, but can’t remember what he is supposed to talk about. While he searches his mind for direction, a man in the first row raises his hand. The author thankfully calls on him.

The man says, “In your first book about the young woman with amnesia, she has sex with a sleazebag. If you must have a sex scene in your book, at least she should have it with a decent guy.”

The author suddenly remembers who these people are. They are his critics—all the people who have given him bad reviews. He must defend his position.

“Well, you see, she is struggling to remember her past life, and one thing she is attempting to do is to find out about her sexuality. This man…”

The author can tell from the expression on the questioner’s face that he isn’t buying it. The author quickly shifts gears.

“Thank you very much for your comment. The next time I write a sex scene I’ll consult you first.”

A woman halfway back in the audience is calling out to get his attention. The author points in her direction.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How did you learn to write, sending text messages to teenagers? Do you ever write a sentence of more than five words?”

“Are you speaking about a particular book, ma’am?”

She gives a book title.

The author remembers the first sentence of that book. He mentally counts the words in that sentence.

“The first sentence in that book has sixteen words. And I’m sure there are many other sentences of that length or longer in the book.”

“I wouldn’t know. I just read the excerpt.”

“You mean you reviewed the book without actually reading it?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask why?”

“This is a free country. I’ll do anything I damn please.”

The author forces a smile and says, “It takes all kinds, doesn’t it? Any more questions?”

Another woman gets to her feet and starts speaking before the author can call on her.

“When your protagonist is in the hospital, recovering from being hit on the head, you show her as being concerned about her appearance because she is being visited by some young men. You don’t know anything about women. She’s injured for pity’s sake. She isn’t going to be worried about how she looks.”

The author is ready for this one. “I have a story to tell. Years ago I dated a girl whose friend had joined a convent. One day she talked me into taking her to the convent to see her friend. We were in the reception area when the trainee nun walked in. She took one look at me, became flustered and apologized for not wearing makeup.”

The author smiles, pleased with himself. The woman casts a look at him that would melt lead and sits down with a thump.

A man in the back is waving his hand in the air as if he’s trying to catch a bus. The author recognizes him.

“In one of your books you speak disparagingly about global warming. You are obviously a global warming denier and should be expunged from the earth.”

The author attempts to explain. “I’m not a denier of anything. The earth has been warming and cooling for four and one-half billion years, so it’s certainly doing one of those right now. What I’m against is junk science being used to support the agendas of groups who hate people and want to blame the human race for everything.”

The man in the audience says, “Denier.” Then he starts to chant, repeating “denier” over and over again. Other people in the audience take up the chant and it swells in volume. The author looks at the frightening faces of the audience members and fears for his life. He tries to speak over the noise of the chant.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

The author goes to the door and surreptitiously turns on a hidden valve that lets a colorless and odorless gas into the room. He exits and shuts the door behind him, being sure it is securely locked and can’t be opened from the inside. He whistles as he walks down the hall toward the elevator.

Sue Grafton's new book, Y is for Yesterday, is coming out this month (August 2017), and her last Kinsey Millhone book, Z is for Zero, will hopefully be out in 2019.

Unfortunately, she has been forbidden by her doctors from public appearances and speaking engagements, so she will not be interacting with her many friends and readers. This is a shame because Sue has always been a very public person, maintaining a positive relationship with her readers and giving helpful talks to writers.

I have listened to her speak on several occasions. She signed one of her books for my wife: "Surprise! Surprise! Your husband is a great guy!"

I once sent her a limerick and she wrote me a letter, thanking me and complaining about how difficult it was to think up a plot for her next book. Judging from the success of her books and her vast readership, she has always been able to overcome any plotting problems she might have had.

I wish her well and look forward to the publication of Z is for Zero.

The story of Grafton, Sweet Sue,
Is one of an alphabet stew.
From A through to Z;
She'd done B, G and P.
She's doing it all just for U.

Shrewd Kinsey was born back in '50;
She deals with the folks who are shifty,
And killers and sneaks;
It's justice she seeks,
And a really nice guy would be nifty.