Today I have the distinct pleasure of hosting the magnificent Penny James, aka Silver James! Her post is going to blow you away! Silver tells me her imagination runs rampant, aided and abetted by her Muse, Iffy, who runs with scissors—a lot! As a published author, she gets to share the stories created in that vast cosmic void. Over the course of her lifetime, Penny, on the other hand, has been a military officer’s wife, mother, state appellate court marshal, airport rescue firefighter and forensic fire photographer, crime analyst, and technical crime scene investigator. Whew! What hasn’t this woman done? Retired from the “real world” now, Penny/Silver lives in Oklahoma and spends her days at the computer with her two Newfoundland dogs, the “lolcat,” and myriad characters all clamoring for attention. You can visit Silver at www.silverjames.com

First, a big thank you to Debra Webb for inviting me, and to Toni McGee Causey for seconding the motion. MSW is my first stop every morning! Second, how many of you think crime scene investigation and crime analysis is just like you see on CSI, CSI New York, CSI Miami, NCIS, NCIS Los Angeles….well, the list goes on and on! Raise your hands. Don’t be shy. Yes, I see you back there in the corner. I have bad news for you. This ain’t Hollywood. I know CSIs (or technical investigators as many of us are called) who would commit murder to have the labs featured on TV. And to be able to see in the dark with those handy-dandy little flashlights. Allow me to introduce myself. In the world of fiction, I’m known as Silver James. I write romances with magic and mystery. In real life, my name is Penny James. I’ve been the chief bailiff in a district court, Marshal of the Oklahoma Court of Civil Appeals, a crime analyst and technical investigator for a metropolitan police department, and a forensic fire photographer and Airport Rescue Firefighter (ARFF). I also did a stint on an urban search and rescue team. And people wonder why I have bad knees…

Back in the late 1980s, forensic investigation was just beginning to catch on. DNA testing. AFIS (Automatic Finger Print Identification System). Profiling. These terms and the characters who went with them began appearing in books, movies, and television. As evidence collection and testing became more sophisticated, so did the need for trained technical investigators. I’d always had an interest in photography and when my daughter (known here as The Only) was born, we invested in a good camera. One day, when the she was about six months old, a house down the block caught fire. I was jolly on the spot with baby in backpack and camera in hand. Later that day, an arson investigator knocked on the door and asked for a copy of my photos. I happily supplied them. Thus began my working relationship with the local arson division—and, the realization that I LIKED this line of work. Joining a professional organization, the International Fire Photographers Association, becoming certified as a forensic fire photographer through IFP, and volunteering my services to local fire departments eventually landed me with the Will Rogers Airport Rescue Fire Department as an ARFF (training fires are SOOOO much fun!), and Technical /Forensics Officer.

In 1995, I was the first forensic photographer on scene at the Murrah Federal Building Bombing in Oklahoma City. My photos were used by the FBI, ATF, and state and local fire and law enforcement organizations in their investigation and subsequently in the trials of Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols. By 1999, I was a member of Central Oklahoma Search and Rescue, an urban technical rescue team comprised of five suburban fire departments, and I provided forensic photography services to both the Bethany Fire and Police Departments. On May 3 of that year, the single largest recorded tornado hit Oklahoma, leaving a trail of destruction almost a 100 miles long. I deployed with COSAR and had three “duty stations.” First, I helped search for victims and cleared the I-35/Shields Boulevard overpass, I served as Resource Commander for the command post in Moore, Oklahoma, and finally, I got to slip out into the devastated area and actually take pictures.

In 2004, I joined the Midwest City Police Department and trained as a crime analyst and technical investigator. In the course of my career, I’ve investigated, analyzed, and documented suicides, murders, serial rapes, robberies, burglaries, arson fires and deaths, plane crashes, bombings, car wrecks, tornadoes, officer-involved shootings and a pistol in a pear tree (well, a hotel portico). When I say I’ve been there, done that, I most likely have.

Have I bored you to tears yet? As Debra and I exchanged emails about this post, I asked, “Do you want to know about crime analysis? War stories? How tos? How nots? A comparison of RL vs. Hollywood versions of CSI/technical investigations? All of the above?” Deb’s answer? “YES!” That narrows it down, don’t you think? I will try to keep this under 20,000 words.

CRIME ANALYSIS:

What does a crime analyst do? The job is part profiler, part mathematician, part prognosticator. I dealt with medians, means, probabilities, and algorithms bundled up with a gut feeling based on previous experience. I read all the daily incident reports and tracked crime throughout the city. My job meant identifying crime patterns and trends statistically to assist the detectives and the street cops in their investigations and patrols. I kept track of crime statistics and prepared operational and administrative reports essential to planning and staging resources in order to prevent or in the surveillance of criminal activity. The information is also used to aid in arrests or otherwise clearing cases. With some psychology hours under my belt from college, I also helped the detectives with the psychological aspects of their crimes. This FAQ from the Tempe, AZ Police Department should answer many of your questions (www.tempe.gov/cau/Questions.htm).

WAR STORIES:

Beyond the two “biggies” mentioned above, there were moments of quiet sadness in my career. One man sent his wife out for ice cream and then quietly blew out his brains while sitting on the back porch. A young police officer attempted to use stop sticks to keep a fleeing motorcyclist from driving into the middle of a 4^th of July celebration. He lost his leg. A twin-engine plane with three SOBs (Souls On Board—FAA designation for people on a plane) lost hydraulics and crashed the night my dad died. I had to finish documenting the scene before I could head to my hometown, though I knew Dad was gone long before I left.

There were also moments of humor—some dark, some stupid. During the Murrah, I’d been documenting the outer perimeter of damage. I turned a corner and was almost trampled by a horde of humanity. In stunned silence, I watched the stampede. At the tail end, two arson investigators from OCFD walked calmly. I fell in with them, asking for a situation report. The conversation went like this: 

            Me: “What’s the rush?” 

           First investigator: “There’s a second device.”

            Second: “They’ve evacuated the scene.”

            First: “No sense working up a sweat.”

            Second: “Yup, nothin’ worse than soggy toast.”

I’d already seen how many blocks were damaged. If a second bomb went off, we were all, indeed, toast.

People who cook meth are not the brightest in the world. One group checked into a suite with a kitchenette at a local hotel. The cleaning lady ratted them out and the drug team went in. One of the perps knocked out the window and tossed his weapon, a .45 revolver, onto the hotel’s portico, because, you know, having a pistol at the scene of a meth lab when you’re a parolee is like bad news, or something. <i>*rolls eyes*</i> I was called in to process the scene that cold, icy January night. Retrieving the weapon involved a fire department ladder truck and a long conversation over who was responsible for getting the damn thing. I finally climbed up, slithered over the roof, gathered the pistol and stuck it in an evidence bag after clearing it. Yes. It was loaded. No, I didn’t shoot the detective or the fire chief.

One of my favorite war stories involved a woman wearing a fuzzy robe and pink curlers, a fire chief, and a working fire scene. The four-inch feeder line from the hydrant to the pumper truck was laid down the center of the street. The woman drove over the charged line, and with her car straddling the hose, accelerated right into the middle of the scene. The entire street was clogged with two engines, a ladder truck and a rescue squad. Various people tried to wave her off but she ignored them, the flashing lights, and the very LARGE red trucks. Quite oblivious until she all but rear-ended the ladder truck, she finally stopped and laid on her horn, trying to get the truck to move. The chief stormed over, leaned in, shoved her car into park and snatched her keys.

“What the hell are you doin’, lady?” the chief demanded, red faced and all but sputtering in his anger.

“I need me some cigarettes. Can y’all get the f@*k out of my way?”

The chief threw her keys away. I mean, THREW her keys AWAY! I doubt she ever found them. Her car also sat there until the fire was out, all salvage and overhaul was completed, and the rigs loaded up. At one point, she had the nerve to get out of her car and wander from firefighter to firefighter trying to bum a cigarette. Talk about an addiction!?!

HOLLYWOOD vs. REAL LIFE

Don’t believe everything you see on TV or in the movies. Investigations aren’t solved in a week with a trial held the following week. DNA results don’t magically appear in an hour. AFIS doesn’t spit out a fingerprint match in minutes. And most police departments do NOT have labs with state of the art computers, databases, and high-tech gadgetry. Lab techs and scene investigators certainly don’t work in the dark. In fact, they bring in MORE lights if necessary. Yeah, I know. Dark, murky scenes are more dramatic but I can guarantee you any CSI/TI working in those conditions will miss at least half the evidence. Another fallacy concerns areas of expertise. Unlike Abbie on NCIS (who miraculously knows everything), forensic investigation is a very compartmentalized science. Blood splatter, DNA, fingerprints, tool marks, ballistics—each of these, among others, is a specialty and each one takes years of study and certifications. Small departments send off evidence to state crime bureau labs, or to the FBI’s lab. Then the waiting game starts…and stretches on seemingly forever. One of the bi-products of shows like these is called the CSI Effect—juries demand more forensic evidence and have preconceived notions about how conclusive that evidence may be. If you are looking for links and on-going discussions the http://blog.forensicscience.ufl.edu sponsored by the University of Florida, is an interesting place to start.

If you are still reading, bless you! While I could write mysteries or thrillers, I had enough murder and mayhem in real life. Now that I’m retired, I hide by writing romantic fantasy and paranormal stories where a happy ever after is guaranteed. My debut novel, FAERIE FATE, released this spring and is available in print and ebook from my publisher, http://www.thewildrosepress.com/silver-james-m-674.html, Amazon, B&N.com, and several on-line ebook stores.

If you could go back, do it over again, would you take a chance to find true love? What if you had no choice?

On her fiftieth birthday, the faerie catapult Rebecca Miller a thousand years into the past to find her happily ever after with Ciaran MacDermot, the last Fenian warrior in his line. In the twenty-first century, she’s old enough to be Ciaran’s mother. In the tenth, she’s young enough to be his bride.

The fae forgot to mention one slight stipulation. The lovers must be bound before the Festival of Light or Becca will forever disappear into Tir Nan Óg, the faerie Land of the Ever Young. Will they discover the binding words before time runs out and they’re torn apart forever? Or will their eternal love defeat their Faerie Fate?

Without the words, history is doomed to repeat itself.

One lucky commenter will win a signed copy of FAERIE FATE!

As storytellers we spend a lot of time figuring out who our characters are, what they look like, their personalities, and, of course, their names. I think it’s safe to say that we all have our own personal ideas as to what a hot guy looks like. How he moves. The ins and outs of his personality, etc. The same with our female characters. And our villains. We use a lot of resources, like the baby name books Laura Griffin spoke about last week, but to a great extent we use our own feelings on the matter (see Jennifer Lyon’s My Idea of Romance from yesterday). We have our own built-in, unique profiling system.

Profiling to a large degree has evolved into a dirty word, but this is something WE ALL DO. When we meet/see someone on the street or at the mall we make certain assumptions automatically based on the person’s actions, dress AND the way he/she looks. Those assumptions often change or evolve the closer we draw to that person or with additional observation. However, no matter the final conclusions we draw, the fact of the matter is that we have certain ideas about names, faces, actions–basically every single thing about people. This is true not only of storytellers but also folks in general. We draw conclusions regarding all things in life–people, places and things.

This can be a bit of a problem for storytellers. Our opinions and theories about people, places and things, like everyones, are generally based on our life experiences. Where we grew up. Our parents and other influential family members. Our friends. School. Work. What we watch in movies and the news. What we read in the books we love. Life and our journey through it molds who we are and how we think. Therein lies the problem. When creating our characters we can’t have a small town sheriff looking/acting like Barney or Andy from Mayberry. Every hot hero can’t look/act like the celebrity heartthrob of your latest favorite TV series or movie (or the guy who swept you off your feet in real life). No matter, our brains automatically form a mental picture as we’re deciding who the characters are for any given story. It’s the normal path for our thoughts to take.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), if we wrote a story with characters whose only assets were those that first came to mind as we lined up our characters for a story we’d get nasty little comments from our editors. And our readers would be very disappointed. So we have to work hard. Work hard at writing a great story and even harder at putting aside the idea of what a hero or heroine or villain looks and acts like and at developing unique, compelling characters. We must fight the initial conclusions when profiling our characters. We must make our villains as compelling and three-dimensional as our heroes and heroines.

When writing ANYWHERE SHE RUNS it was necessary for me to work extra hard when profiling my characters and my setting. I grew up in a small town very much like Moss Point and Pascagoula. Though I used my small town background as a resource, I worked hard to ensure I kept my setting and characters fresh and unique to the best of my ability. I didn’t want the readers to see the villain coming. I needed the bad guys to be as real and compelling as the good guys. I’m particularly proud of Adeline Cooper. She isn’t classically beautiful. She’s a very small woman but she isn’t afraid to go up against the largest of enemies or threats. She swears like the proverbial sailor, she’s trying to quit smoking, she drinks…and she hasn’t kept in touch with her mom like she should have. She is far, far from perfect. But she is immensely loyal, caring and hard working. She is an amazing woman who made her own path through the carnage of her life. She’s unstoppable. Pick up your copy of ANYWHERE SHE RUNS and check her out!

All you storytellers and readers out there, what are your tricks for getting past your automatic “profiling” instincts? One lucky commenter will receive a signed copy of ANYWHERE SHE RUNS and will be entered into the phenomenal contest on my webpage (www.debrawebb.com)! So, let’s talk characters!

At the time you read this, I am probably going to be sitting in the doctor’s office (again) while she looks in my throat (again) and tells me (yet again) that I have the “walking pneumonia/crud/boogie-woogie flu.” Again.

Argh.

I managed to stay well through the Desert Rose Conference (which was absolutely wonderful), but I had apparently passed the crud on to my husband and my youngest son, who very kindly saved it for when I got home so he could pass it back along to me. Because he’s helpful like that.

Somewhere in this very addled brain, I had something interesting to say about the Voice class I taught, but… I barely remember my own name right now. (And it’s not like I’m really even sick! It’s just annoying!) So, because my head is fuzzy with a cough-medicine-induced fog, and my ears are ringing, and I am sounding about like a 5-pack-a-day-smoker, I think I’m going to cry uncle and do something fun and simple.

Let’s talk pet-peeve words. Words you just hate to hear. Or read. Things that sound awful to you, or things that, when you see them used incorrectly, make you want to bop the speaker or writer on the head.

I’ll start: moist.

:::::shudder::::::

Even when talking about a cake, this just sounds icky.

Or, to pick a word because of its meaning: stupid. Especially if aimed at a child. This is one of the worst things I think can be said to a child, and it makes me flinch to hear it.

How about you?

And let’s make this fun. To celebrate our wonderful Debra Webb’s fantastic new book (which I bought yesterday–started reading and am bleary-eyed, I hated having to put it down) — titled ANYWHERE SHE RUNS — every entry is eligible for one of FIVE free copies of Deb’s book. So let the fun begin! Pet peeve words…. go!

(Five winners will be announced Monday here–so be sure to check back! Must be able to receive the book from Amazon or B&N.)

Good morning! I’m so excited today! One of my favorite books hits the shelves–ANYWHERE SHE RUNS. I loved, loved, loved writing this book. I think in large part because of the heroine, Adeline Cooper. Adeline first came to be in last summer’s release, EVERYWHERE SHE TURNS. As soon as I wrote the first line related to her, she immediately tried to take over the story. I found myself regularly attempting to rein the spunky lady in. But Adeline wasn’t about to be exiled to the corner (Nobody puts Baby in a corner!). By the time I finished writing EVERYWHERE SHE TURNS, I knew Adeline would simply have to have her own story. So I began to plot a storyline where Adeline could show off her tough attitude yet be bombarded with all the emotions she tried so hard to hide.

“Pretty, pretty princess. See her smile…see her die.” This is the invitation Adeline receives. The cut-and-paste note is accompanied by a newspaper article about a woman who has gone missing in Adeline’s hometown of Pascagoula, Mississippi. Adeline hasn’t been home in almost ten years. In part because the only man she has ever loved lives there and in part because her powerful uncle threatened to have her killed if she ever set foot in Mississippi again. Adeline has made a home for herself in Huntsville, Alabama, and hasn’t looked back until now. BUT, nobody threatens Adeline Cooper without a reaction. No matter that her life will be in danger from more than one enemy…no matter that she will have to work side-by-side with her long lost lover who is now the sheriff, she will go back to Mississippi with the attitude of kicking butt and taking names. That’s just who Adeline Cooper is. She is fierce, determined, and utterly independent. She needs nothing from anyone…she thinks. Romantic Times Magazine gave ANYWHERE SHE RUNS a stellar review along with 4 1/2 stars! ANYWHERE SHE RUNS is fast-paced, action-packed suspense, the way romantic suspense is supposed to be. Webb crafts a tight plot, a kick-butt heroine, a sexy hero, and a mystery as dark as the black water at night.

While researching the setting I discovered an amazing old legend about the area that tied in perfectly with the story’s plotline. I can’t wait for you to read it! Moss Point and Pascagoula are both fairly small towns so I was able to utitlize my vast knowledge of small town life! I loved every minute of it! I’ve read some amazing books where I hoped the author would write more stories about a certain character. Have you written or read a book where you fervently hoped a certain character or characters would have another book? One lucky commenter will receive a signed copy of ANYWHERE SHE RUNS and will be entered in the contest on my website where I’ll be giving away a $100.00 Visa giftcard as well as a one year subscription to Romantic Times Magazine (where great novels are reviewed every month!)! So, don’t hold back! And be sure to pick up your copy of ANYWHERE SHE RUNS!

It’s Tuesday. No, not just Tuesday–MY TUESDAY!!!! And I was so involved with helping my husband figure out a major renovating issue that I, Debra Webb, FORGOT!!!! If memory serves me correctly (lol), I have never forgotten to do my blog. Please forgive me. I have sawdust on my brain…if I still have a functioning brain. I have no excuse. No illness, no Ambien…nothing. But I do now know how to use a compound miter saw with a laser thingie. I can calculate an angle on crown molding. And, by George, I can shoot the heck out of a nail gun. (I could seriously use this in a book!)

Yesterday I read Jen’s amazing post about heroes and tears. Last night as I watched 24 Jack Bauer cried and I thought, “This is a perfect example of when it’s absolutely right for a hero to cry.” As I thought this I also considered what I would post today (hahahahaha).

Today, Tuesday–my Tuesday, I find myself in an odd place. Actually I’ve been in this strange place for the past week. I turned in the final Harlequin Intrigue on my contract and though I’m toying with the next Colby story I don’t actually have to do it yet. I have single title stuff out and about. But, truth is, I don’t have anything to do related to writing.

Nothing.

This is very, very strange for me. This December my 88th book comes out. Ten years. Lots of books. Having no deadline feels weird. I tell myself–and encourage others–that you should make time for yourself. This is the year of me, yadayadayada. And it has been to some degree. No smoking. Working on weightloss. Exercise. Having fun. Yes, yes, I’m doing all those things. But it feels weird not toying for real with some plot point or character in the back of my mind.

Perhaps the problem is that there really is something wrong with me (not just a vicious rumor among my neighbors). Is a storyteller my only true self? Am I incapable of living a “normal” life? Hmmm. Nah, I just love storytelling. I love coming up with characters (and torturing them) and different plots (to torture the characters some more!). It’s just what I do and I feel a little out of sync when I’m not on deadline. But not to worry, tomorrow my Harlequin editor is calling to work out the details of the next contract (more Colby books). So I’ll be gainfully employed once more. It’s funny, when we have deadlines we can’t wait to finish…when we don’t we feel strange.

So, does having a project hanging over your head nag you, but then you feel out of sorts when it’s complete? As I said, I finished the final book on my contract and I painted the wrought iron posts on my porch. They look lovely (no more rust)! I also put in stacked stone borders around my front porch (and now know why people pay others to do this–not fun!). What projects have you started this spring that you have finished or can’t wait to finish? Two weeks from today (and on time) I’ll be talking about my new single title release, ANYWHERE SHE RUNS! One lucky commenter will receive signed copies of COLBY LOCKDOWN and COLBY JUSTICE! Check back this weekend for the winner!