ONE AWARD, TWO COVERS, BELFAST NOIR LAUNCH AND A REVIEW OR TEN.

I did say last time that I’d blog more often.

I did, didn’t I?

Well, I had good intentions. Too bad. I’m here now. Let’s forget about it. Honestly. It’s okay, have a mince pie. No, not that one, the dog’s been at it. Yes, a bit of bleach and that should come right out.

Anyway.

Since my last post a LOT has happened. There was the amazing launch of Belfast Noir…

And my first public reading at that launch….

A quick word or two on reading in public – it’s a lot more difficult than it sounds. ‘Can you do a short reading?’ you’re asked. Of course I can. I’ve been reading since I was a wee boy – no problem – if I wrote it, surely I can READ it. It’s not like I’ve been asked to juggle chainsaws, fling knives at balloons or speak in moderately coherent sentences, no, this reading lark will be a doddle.

It’s bloody hard.

Yes, of course it’s possible to read something out. But looking up at the audience, making it sound good, giving the language its rhythm, not stumbling over words, all of that takes practice. Done well, it’s entertaining, it’s a performance. Done badly it’s the sound of the cold, dead soul of the very nice lady who tells you what you should do if the lovely plane that you’re in should decide to crash into mountain at four hundred miles an hour. You know the one – nobody listens to a bloody word. Airlines should employ crime writers to read out aircraft safety announcements.

            ‘…in the unlikely event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, for those of you who have upgraded to the Ryanair ‘survival package,’ breathing devices shall be deployed from the panel above you. Those passengers who have not yet upgraded should look under their seats where they will find a set of Rosary beads and a bag with a hole in it. For those of you travelling with small childr…wait…what was that? Did you hear someth…GAAHHHH’

            (silence)

            ‘In approximately one hour we shall be serving our meal; a rather surprising delicacy – served with fava beans and a nice chianti. We hope that you will join us for dinner…’

Anyway, I managed to get through my reading okay. Next time, it’ll be better.

And in case you’re wondering – Belfast Noir is every bit as good as it sounds. Thirteen great stories, and mine. (warning, my story has sweary bits. Practically no sweary bits in The Defence, well, only very, very mild ones. You’ve been warned.)

And in case you missed it….

Here is the UK cover for The Defence

And the German cover with a cool new title – Not Enough Time to Die, which sounds a bit  James Bondy, doesn’t it? I love it.

It’s not long now until The Defence is out in the UK, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Germany, France, Italy, Holland, Japan, and the other territories I don’t yet know about.

I also have to thank Alison and A, who helped me with this...

My first author video, which I'm rather proud of because Alison and A took the bad look off me and did an incredibly impressive and professional job. 

In case you’re wondering what all the fuss is about, you can read some lovely things that lovely people have said about the book…

Liz Wilkins, had these cool things  to say over on her blog, Lizlovesbooks. 

Crime writer and reviewer Rebecca Bradley also loved The Defence and you can check out her thoughts by clicking here.

And some vine reviews are filtering though on Amazon…

Click here for Amazon Vine reviews

And early reviews are here on Goodreads….

The Defence Goodreads Page

Speaking of Goodreads – the great people at Orion Books are giving away 10 copies of The Defence right here –

The Orion Books Goodreads Giveaway for THE DEFENCE

I know what you’re thinking – he hasn’t mentioned the award yet. The word AWARD is clearly in this blog title. Maybe he’s imagined it?

Well, for about a week I thought I had imagined it. But it’s true, despite my incredulity.

Last week I got word that I’d been chosen by the Northern Ireland Arts Council as one of their ACES Award winners for Literature 2015.

And before you say it – no, I don’t think they’ve realised that I’m a crime writer. Don’t mention it. I mentioned it a couple of times but I think it got away with it. As a crime (cough)…sorry litterarture writer, I shall be heavily involved with the Arts Council and the Seamus Heaney Centre in Queens University Belfast, creating new work, doing a bit of creative writing tutoring (I’ll have to get a tutor to teach me that) and promoting my work and that of my fellow ACES around Northern Ireland. Seriously though, joking aside, I’m really honoured to receive the award. And yes, Northern Ireland Arts Council did know that I was a thriller writer before they gave me the award – I was just having a little joke (I get a bit embarrassed by praise and I seem to have a need to make it humorous). I’m amazed, yet extremely grateful to receive their support and I can’t wait for the work to get started.

Having said that, if you hear tell of the eminent poet, heavyweight killer critic, and Northern Irish literary legend - Tom Paulin, boaking in a taxi, there’s every chance he’s just read my book (see, there I go again).

So next year sees publication – I’ll be launching the book in No Alibis, and a few other choice bookshops elsewhere in the UK and Ireland, and I’ll be appearing at a few literary festivals including Crimefest and more besides. I could tell you more about some of the cool surprises that are planned for next year, but Angela at Orion would snap my neck like a twig.

So, hope you’ve had a great year and my thanks as ever go to my fellow writers, particularly Stuart Neville, Gerard Brennan, Adrian McKinty, Mari Hannah, Nick Quantrill, Mark Edwards, Declan Burke, Susi Holliday, Stav Sherez and Mason Cross, my twitter pals, everyone at AM Heath, everyone at Orion Books, my Facebook supporters, my friends, the Northern Ireland Arts Council, Matt Craig, Clare Costa, Harry Illingworth, Alison and A, all the booksellers who've given The Defence an amazing reception, David Torrens at No Alibis and everyone, especially the wonderful Mrs C, who has given me their support this year.

Thanks folks.

I’ll need that support next year.

Have a happy and peaceful Christmas.

Steve Cavanagh

PS – this is likely to be the last blog post on this site. In January – a brand new website will be launched with cool insider info on Eddie Flynn, the book, and more besides. The blog will move to the new website, where all three regular readers can find me.

THE KINDNESS OF CRIME WRITERS AND MY LOWER INTESTINES: MY FIRST AUTHOR GIG

Busy? Busy? Yes, I’ve been busy. Busy writing, redrafting, editing, eating biscuits, and generally working like crazy on the next Eddie Flynn novel. So I’ve been a little remiss with the old blog posts, something I intend to remedy.

So here is a long overdue post about my first gig as a writer. Even typing that sentence gives me a little thrill. You see, I’m slowly coming around to the notion of actually being a writer. It may be a class thing, I’m not sure. I remember Billy Connolly doing a piece of material about having dinner in a big country house and asking one of the guests what they did for a living.

            ‘Toboggan,’ was the response.

            ‘No, I didn’t mean to ask what you were doing today. I meant what do you do for a living?’

            ‘Toboggan,’ again was the reply.

            The Big Yin thought, quite rightly, that it was his own upbringing which simply wouldn’t allow him to absorb this information. He imagined the professional toboggan enthusiast signing on the dole.

            ‘Occupation?’ asked the man at the dole office.

            ‘Tobogganist.’

            ‘I’m sorry, what?’

            ‘Tobogganist.’

            ‘Give me a second would you?’

            Dole officer rings his boss from the back office.

            ‘Does he have his toboggan with him?’ asked the supervisor.

            ‘No.’

            ‘The poor man must have a speech impediment. Put him down as a tobacconist.’

            (after you’ve read this blog, go and get yourself a Billy Connolly DVD and have a laugh, it’s good for you.)

            I can relate to that sense of incredulity. And there isn’t a kick in the arse between being a writer and being a tobogganist. Both fly by the seat of their pants, out of control for the most of the way and living in constant fear of hitting a tree at any moment. I remember in 2012, when I was writing The Defence, my mates asking me what I was up to at the time.

            ‘I’m writing a novel,’ I mumbled, into my beer.

            ‘You’re igniting a bowel?’

Of course the irony is that later that evening, in the kebab shop, I would engage, rather foolishly, in the process of irritating my bowel. And early the following morning, having consumed many pints of gassy beer and an onion filled kebab the night before, my body certainly possessed all of the raw ingredients necessary to achieve ignition.

Anyhoo.

The gig. Yes, the gig.

            It was at the tail end of August as part of the Openhouse Festival, in Bangor. Like a lot of first time writers, I had envisaged that the first occasion in which I would be called upon to speak in front of an audience would be at the launch of my debut novel, and the audience would largely consist of friends, dragged along with the promise of drink. I hadn’t in a million years thought that I’d appear on the same bill as a Colin Bateman, Stuart Neville and Mark Billingham. When I was invited to do the gig I accepted on the spot. A huge opportunity had been handed to me by much more experienced, much better writers and I would’ve turned up to make their tea.

Then I realised this gig would be in front of a large, paying audience. Well, as you can probably imagine, with or without gassy beer and an onion littered kebab, bowel ignition had now become a serious possibility. To say that I was nervous doesn’t come close. I was nervous enough just meeting the bloody panel, whom I admire enormously, never mind getting on stage and speaking in front of the audience.

I’m actually quite used to public speaking. I’ve done lectures in front of a hundred or more people, I appear in court regularly, I’ve been MC at a number of friend’s weddings – so you’d think I’d be used to it by now. But then I realised the difference. In court, at a lecture, at a wedding, I’m talking about and on behalf of other people.  This would be the first time I’d be speaking about me, and the book. That’s a whole different ball game.

That’s what was making me nervous. So nervous I didn’t tell my friends or my work colleagues that I was doing it and I forbid (actually, I begged very nicely) Mrs C from attending because that would only serve to make me even more anxious. I tried to pinpoint what it was that made me so afraid, and I realised that it’s largely because when it comes to writing I’ve no clue what I’m doing.

Not a Scooby.

The date for the gig arrived.

Three things got me through the terror that I had before going on stage that evening. Those three things were Colin Bateman, Mark Billingham and Stuart Neville.

They were exceptionally welcoming, they totally put me at my ease, we talked about books and food, gigs, the industry, and they supplied me with a good deal of alcohol before I had to go on.

During our panel session, Mr Neville and Mr Bateman carried my sorry ass, and I even managed to answer a few questions, got a few laughs from the audience (intentionally, mind) and gave away a few books. Then it was time for Mark to take the stage. He was amazingly funny and spoke so intelligently about his work, the genre and the profession. One thing I learned about Mark that evening, he has fabulous timing. No wonder he does stand-up, with timing like that he should be on telly as a comic.

So, I survived and, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I spent a great evening in the company of three brilliant writers. I can’t wait to do it again.

And now I know the secret to getting over my nerves – booze and a little kindness.

If you were at the gig and you picked up one of these beauties…

 ….and on the off chance you’ve read it and enjoyed it - tweet me at @SSCav.

More blogging McBlog bloggy things to come soon… including a piece on Belfast Noir and the brilliant proofs of The Defence that are finding their way into the world.

Until then, be good. Or bad. Whichever one pleases you and involves lots of chocolate biscuits.

Ta.

A DRAFT OF THEAKSTONS

 

It’s been a while.

How are you?

Has the cream worked?

Excellent.

So, I’ve had a bit of a blogging hiatus whilst I’ve been up to my hiatus in the first draft of book two in the Eddie Flynn series.

It’s good. I think it could be my best yet. No-one has seen it but me. No-one will see it until it’s ready. It’s a bit like Grolsch, really. Remember Grolsch? “we only let you drink it when it’s ready.”

It was a difficult birth, though, that first draft. Took a little longer than expected (7 months) but it’s done and I have loads of time to redraft until my heart’s content.

So there.

Whilst we’re on the subject of beer, since my last post I’ve been to the Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival. Met loads of really friendly, funny people who were incredibly warm and welcoming. I had a ball, and I even went to some panels. On the Thursday I had dinner with the good people of Orion Books, met some great authors I hadn’t met before, met some other really cool folk, and enjoyed lots of beer, wine, food and craic. The good people I met at that dinner really made the night special. Graeme Williams, Helen Giltrow and I, kept the spirit of the previous evening going through Friday afternoon. 

I also met some of my twitter pals, which is fantastic and really gives you a renewed sense of how amazing social media is when its powers are used as intended. Too many good people to name, but I had a great time with you all, and I’ve hopefully already mentioned on twitter, how brilliant it was to meet everyone. And meeting lots of new people, great. 

On Friday I had dinner with my agent, Euan, along with Jennifer and Victoria from AM Heath, and we were joined by the lovely and talented Martie Villiers and the fascinating, Parker Bilal. Superb night. 

Some of my other highlights from the festival were Mari Hannah’s single digit salute during her panel (it was amazing), SJ Watson in conversation with Sophie Hannah, meeting my Dutch publisher (he’s a very nice and extremely knowledgeable man), the New Blood Panel, meeting up with fellow Northern Ireland authors Stuart Neville (legend) and Anthony Quinn (legend in the making), the Keeping it Real Panel (probably the best panel I saw) and the extremely talented Luca Veste’s story about his part in the worst play ever performed on British soil.

I’ll take that one to my grave, Luca.

What was it like and what have I learned from my first Harrogate experience?

1)    There’s a beer tent.

2)    It gets hot. Sometimes it rains. None of this matters as I’m safely in the beer tent.

3)    Harrogate is a beautiful, old English town. None of this matters as I’m safely in the beer tent.

4)    Everyone, and I mean everyone, is really friendly, approachable and passionate about crime novels. Especially in the beer tent.

5)    Don’t order Guinness in the bar. It comes from a tin, it’s poured into a glass, placed on some form of unholy vibrating plate, shaken, then left to settle. This is a clear breach of the Geneva Convention. Stick to Theakston’s, they have it on tap in the beer tent.

6)    Oli Munson is indestructible. His powers are particularly strong in the beer tent.

7)    WH Smith run a brilliant book shop right on the festival lawn. It’s next to the beer tent.

8)    The organisers, the programming committee, Steve Mosby in particular, and all the festival staff did an amazing job. The Old Swann staff were great too, and, if I may say so, they performed out of their boots in the beer tent.

9)    Did I mention there’s a beer tent?

10)                       If you log on to crimefictionlover’s web domain  right here you might see a picture of me talking to Stav Sherez and Martyn Waites. Guess where I am?

11)                       I didn’t make it to the Robert Galbraith event. My whereabouts at the time are yet to be established.  

12)                       On a more serious note, it’s the first big writing festival I’ve been to, and it was great to stop being a lawyer, and be somewhere because I’m a reader, a fan, and a writer.

I left the festival with a new sense of purpose, a new vigour, and ever so slightly hung over.

Thanks Steve Mosby, for a brilliant first Harrogate. The first of many, for me.   Get more reactions over at Steve Mosby's excellent blog here at theleftroom.

Steve Cavanagh

PS – There will be a beer tent next year, right Steve?



BELFAST NOIR

It's been a busy old time here. 

As some of you may know, late last year I was invited to contribute a short story for Belfast Noir. This is the latest from the award-winning Akashic Books city noir series. 

It was with some surprise that I got an email from the Stuart Neville, who had apparently been talking to the Adrian McKinty, and in what I can only imagine to have been a beer-fuelled decision, they'd agreed that it would be a good idea to include a story from me in the Anthology. To say that I was honoured, shocked and delighted, just doesn't get close. I duly emailed the Stuart Neville immediately (before he sobered up) and told him that I would certainly write a story. 

We spoke that night and discussed the basis for my story. He explained that the story should be crime based, and set in Belfast, other than that, it was up to me. Before talking it over, I'd had a look on the internet and discovered who else was contributing; Lee Child, Alex Barclay, Claire McGowan, Brian McGilloway, Glenn Patterson, Eoin McNamee, Gerard Brennan, Garbhan Downey, Ian McDonald, Sam Millar, Lucy Caldwell, Arlene Hunt and Ruth Dudley Edwards. 

And now me. 

I gulped. 

That's a lot of talent. Some of my favourite writers. 

My feelings of elation gradually diminished into abject fear. Yes, I've got a great book deal with a big publisher; yes the old debut has been popular with foreign publishers, but there is still that overriding fear that you are an eejit who is simply waiting to be found out. I'm a lawyer during the day (I miraculously morph into human form around 5.30pm every evening) and even whilst lawyering, I still have that feeling that at any moment a man in a white coat may arrive, tell me I've had a good run but unfortunately it's all over now and then gather me up in a big net and take me away. 

The withering looks I sometimes get from posh lawyers in big firms doesn't help either. Although I console myself by knowing that I usually get these looks after the posh lawyer in the bespoke suit has just written my client a rather large cheque.

Lawyering, and writering, it's not good for the old self confidence.

Anyway, I worked away on the short story and I have to say, I'm pleased with it. It was a great opportunity to write something in a different style, with a different voice, and finally write something which contains some swearing. In my novels (one written, one in progress) there is precious little swearing and what there is of it wouldn't be enough to send a ripple through your granny's Horlicks. This was a deliberate decision on my part as I didn't want to put anybody off the book and, in fairness, there's very little swearing in most legal thrillers. So when I had the opportunity to write in the more gritty, noir style, I took the opportunity to let my language be a little more colourful and inject a healthy dollop of humour, while I was at it.

I also wanted to write about Belfast. I grew up in the Holy Lands; a small part of the city where you'll find Jerusalem Street, Palestine Street, Cairo Street etc. As an aside, if you ever visit Belfast do pay attention to the street names. There are various parts of the city with interesting street names. For example, an area of East Belfast (where I also lived for a time) is entirely named after Derby winners. Joy Street, in the city centre, is Belfast's very own red light district. To our eternal shame, before it was foolishly renamed, we had a street called Squeeze-gut Entry. In case you didn't know, we don't have alleys, we have entries, and surely Squeeze-gut Entry had to have been the Prince among entries.

 This Anthology is very important to me, and I know it's important to every single writer that's contributed to it, purely because it has that title - BELFAST noir. When you write about Belfast, for me anyway, there is a certain responsibility.

 Let me explain.

 The BBC series The Fall, was very popular and I can for one can tell you that it is great TV. A fine crime series and no mistake. And we're getting series 2, brilliant!

 The Fall is set in contemporary Belfast. I know that because I can see it on the screen.
But if you took the story out of Belfast and set it in, say, Glasgow, would it lose anything?

 No.

It would still be a great crime series. And good TV.

 But can you imagine Cracker not being in Manchester? or Morse being taken out of Oxford? or Wallander exiting Sweden?

 No. You would lose everything. You would still have a crime series, but it would be very different and arguably nowhere near as good.

 I suppose what I'm trying to say is that although it's brilliant that TV shows are being filmed in Northern Ireland, and the more the merrier, if you're going to set a big budget crime drama in Belfast with a major star then you have a brilliant opportunity there to create something remarkable. The city is on the screen. But it's not a character. And there is no sense of Belfast, or it's people.

 What is that sense? I wondered about that before I wrote my short story. Then I was reminded of it last year.

 A bomb was planted in the middle of the Cathedral Quarter just a week or so before Christmas. People were out doing their Christmas shopping, the bars and restaurants were packed with folks who had come out for their Christmas party, the city was packed.

 Then the bomb scare went up. Now, if this happened in London, Boston, New York, frankly anywhere in the world, Sky News would have a fit, I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here would be interrupted with breaking news, there would be a media frenzy, panic in the streets, reporters running mad. A viable bomb planted in any other city centre in Europe would be global headline news and the city itself would descend into chaos.

 Not Belfast.

 Sure, people were scared. There's no doubt about that.

 But quite a lot of people who were out that night thought of it as more of a mild inconvenience. Instead of stampeding out of the restaurants, desperate to get to safety, guys meandered behind the police cordon still holding their plates full of Turkey and Ham, refusing to let terrorists interrupt their Christmas dinner. Within a short time of the bomb being dealt with, the pubs began to fill up and a tweet went out - 'the only bombs we're interested in are Jager bombs!! YEEOOOOO!!!'

Only in Belfast.

So, as much as I could, I tried to inject some of that unique Belfast 'stuff' into my story. Whether there's enough of it, or if it comes across, I leave to you to find out, dear reader.  I can tell you that the Stuart Neville and the Adrian McKinty both said they were happy with my wee story and made very gratifying comments about aspects of it. That made me less nervous, after all, when you look at that list above, I am very much the baby of the group. Albeit a six foot two, two-hundred and fifty pound baby, but a baby nonetheless (and to prove it, I don't have any hair and I will often manage to get more of my dinner on my shirt, walls and ceiling than into my mouth).

 So do please look out for Belfast Noir later in the year - around November. Check out the Adrian McKinty's blog, for finer crafted, more up to date news, written with fewer spelling mistakes and much more intelligence than you'll find here - Adrian McKinty

And if you are desperate for a Belfast Noir fix before November this year, check out Adrian McKinty's Sean Duffy Trilogy, Stuart Neville's Belfast books such as The Twelve, or Gerard Brennan's work such as The Point, or the brilliant - Wee Rockets. 

And if you disagree with me about The Fall, that's fine, I'm willing to discuss it with an open mind.

 And in the meantime, if you click on the new page above entitled THE DEFENCE, you'll find some early cover blurb for my debut novel.

I'll have more news soon. But you knew that already.

 Follow me on twitter if you like, you don't have to, it might be nice, and I'll like it if you follow me, I might even follow you back, but I'm not promising anything, just in case you're an axe murderer.

 @SSCav

 

Harry Bosch From Page to Screen: The Long Hello

Adapting a beloved crime series for TV or film is fraught with danger. Of the writers that have had many of their works adapted for the screen, they will say the best way to handle the process is to meet the producer in a parking lot, the producer throws the writer a suitcase full of money and the writer tosses over the book in exchange and never the two shall meet again. If the writer tries to control the adaptation inevitably conflict arises and the project is destined for disaster.


Well, if there were a rule book for screen adaptations, Michael Connelly just tore it up. And in style. In so doing, he has created one of the most compelling and unique police dramas yet seen on our television screens. Don't be put off by the fact that you will watch this first episode of Bosch on Amazon or LOVEFiLM. The quality of the personnel involved and the freedom enjoyed by Michael Connelly in bringing his most famous creation to life has resulted in a slick, addictive, intelligent and emotionally mature cop drama that, for me at least, stands easily beside some of the best episodes of The Wire or The Sopranos.


Michael Connelly's most enduring character is LAPD Homicide Detective, Harry Bosch. Through twenty years of bestselling novels Connelly has crafted a body of work which tracks not only the life of a Detective but chronicles the history of Los Angeles. The Edgar Award winning writer and critic, Patrick Anderson, of the Washington Post, said the Harry Bosch series is the finest crime series ever written by an American author. When you consider that Connelly sits in that category alongside the likes of Chandler, Hammett, Ross McDonald, Parker and others, it's perhaps easier to see the sheer weight of that statement.


So how do you write the perfect crime series?


To answer that question you have to go back to the late seventies and a young Michael Connelly studying at Florida University. Several years after its initial release, Robert Altman's 'The Long Goodbye' played for one night only in a local movie theatre and Connelly caught that screening. He went out the next day and bought the book by Raymond Chandler, discovered it was very different from the movie he'd watched the night before, and then binged on Chandler over a weekend. During that weekend he decided he wanted to be a writer and changed his major to journalism.


It was this journalistic background that would eventually serve Connelly well as a novelist. He wrote two novels that never saw the light of day, because he knew something was missing from them. A week shadowing a homicide squad gave the reporter that missing element. During that week Connelly attended at three murder scenes and saw something unique and unexpected at each one; Sergeant Hurt (who was Connelly's liaison and minder for the week) knelt down beside the body of each victim, removed his glasses and placed the ear piece into his mouth. He remained that way for a few moments, his glasses in his mouth, as if he were communing with the victim. Sergeant Hurt never revealed to the young reporter exactly what he was doing. At the end of a tiring week, Connelly observed Hurt removing his glasses and throwing them onto the table. While Hurt rubbed his tired eyes, Connelly noticed the frames of those glasses had a deep notch, where the cop had bit down on the arm of the frame during his silent communion with victim after victim. Connelly knew then the Sergeant hand been clenching his teeth, hiding his quiet rage at another senseless death. That was the missing element in Connelly first two novels; the heart and the emotion immortalised by the groove in Sergeant Hurt's glasses.


Over 20 Harry Bosch novels the reader can see Harry's progression through the dark tunnel presented by violent crime in Los Angeles. To place even a small element of that character's journey onto the small screen would be an achievement if it was done over the course of a series. Michael Connelly has somehow accomplished this in a single episode.


The TV Pilot opens with Harry Bosch and his partner trailing a suspected serial killer, whom Harry corners and fatally shoots in a dark alley which results in Harry being sued by the family for wrongful death. The viewer questions whether Harry planted the gun on the body after he fired the shot or if the suspect was indeed armed and reached for a gun giving Bosch no alternative but to fire. Instead of lying low during the trial, Harry stumbles upon the possible homicide of a thirteen-year old boy, whose bones are found in the Los Angeles hills. And so the first episode establishes these twin stories (taken from the novels - The Concrete Blonde and City of Bones) and combines the two with new material. Instead of a sixty-year old Bosch, Connelly gives us a younger version of the character and roots the story in contemporary LA. Altman pulled off a similar trick with The Long Goodbye, updating Chandler's Marlowe from the 50's to the 70's, adding new story elements and focusing on the more sensitive and emotionally resonant aspects of Marlowe's character.


But here, the parallels between the two adaptations diverge. Where Altman deliberately shaded Marlowe in a more favourable light with Elliot Gould, Michael Connelly perfectly distils the heart of his character onto the screen through Titus Welliver. At first I thought there was merely a physical resemblance between the Gould of the early seventies and Welliver's Bosch, but then it became clear that the similarity lies within their astonishing skill as actors as they capture the humanity and compassion of their characters. In almost every scene you can see Bosch struggling with the burden of empathy and the righteous anger that threatens to overwhelm him, taking him closer to being enveloped by the dark abyss through which he must travel.


All the exciting technical and procedural police elements are here, as they are in a lot of police shows. The dark, funny and healthy cop humour is here too, but the show is really a character study as well as a riveting police drama and this is testament to the actors and to Michael Connelly who created, produced and co-wrote the series with Eric Overmyer (The Wire).


So go and watch Bosch, for free, vote to see the whole series, pray that Amazon picks it up and then go buy a Harry Bosch book while you're waiting for the next instalment.

I saw the spark of something special and unique in Bosch. I saw the beginnings of what could be the finest American crime drama ever produced for television. I saw an actor embody Michael Connelly's Bosch and during some of those quieter moments, behind Welliver's eyes, I saw Sergeant Hurt's glasses. A Bosch fan cannot ask for more.


This blog post originally appeared on Orion's Murder Room. 

Check it out!

 

http://www.themurderroom.com/