Women in novels, and A Pius Man

On Monday, when I ripped a Tor Books blogger a new one, I wanted to go into an compare and contrast version of how to treat women in novels, mostly with novels I know, or novels I've written.



Then I looked at long long the bloody piece was, and decided to not bother.



After talking with Rebekah Hendershot yesterday, I've decided to go ahead and do just that.



Unfortunately, it's a hard to find a good beginning.  Seriously, where does one start?  With the fact that one of my favorite story of the Judges (biblical warlords) is a woman, Judith, walking into the tent of an enemy of Israel, and taking his head off, literally? Or, that when growing up, I found that the best part of Xena, Warrior Princess was not her leather outfit, but the glint in her eye right before she beat the hell out of everyone?



Do I start with Fr. Andrew Greeley, and his novels where the female and male leads had this tendency to save each other?



Maybe I could cover J. Michael Straczynski's Babylon 5, where the female leads practically dominate the series, and they have some of the best, strongest, most kick ass sequences -- usually without throwing a single punch, wearing clothing that's as revealing as your average monk's robes.



Perhaps I should start with the Irish mythology I grew up with, that had the belief that a woman was required for spirituality -- as in "a man could only go onto the afterlife after his woman drags him there, because otherwise the poor daft fool would probably just get himself lost along the way."



Or, perhaps I should just give my opinion in general, cite some specific examples, and move on.



Let's start with examples from the Tor article -- John Ringo's Ghost.  The premise is that a former SEAL, code-named "Ghost," finds himself in the middle of a terrorist plot, and literally gets dragged along for the ride. The blogger at tour uses Ghost's internal struggle between his instincts and his ethics (Ghost believes himself a rapist by nature, while on the other hand, he hasn't actually raped anybody, and he knows it's wrong), and the blogger uses that to paint all of John Ringo's work with one brushstroke.



However, looking in Ghost, the novel, we see multiple instances of women coming to the rescue.  During a firefight with the terrorists in question, Ghost only has a room filled with female college coeds for support. Of the course of one mission, he's saved by a gunship piloted by a female pilot (said pilot makes a comeback and also saves his but a time or two in later novels).  Sure, Ghost has problems, and the character knows that he has problems, and most of the character moment involves how his sublimates his own violent desires into something more socially acceptable ... which, alas, leads into sequences of more bondage porn than I ever wanted to read ... but the problem the character has is not a problem that John Ringo shares, and it's quite evident in practically every book Ringo has ever written -- even in later volumes starring Ghost.



And, of course, there is always Princess of Wands -- Ringo's novel where the hero is a tough, physically and spiritually fit, very beautiful and sexy .... suburban housewife who goes to church every Sunday, and married to the same man for years, with several children.



Like I said, Ghost's problem is not John Ringo's problem.



My point? In John Ringo's novels, no one is a passive participant. Even his civilian female protagonists make for strong characters, and are just as likely to pick up a gun and return fire, or throw grenades as needed.



With David Weber, another victim of the Tor hatchet job, his Honor Harrington character was criticized for  not having a sex life for multiple books.  Leaving out Honor's personal reasons for that (covered in the last blog), what the hell is a sex life supposed to add to a character, man or woman?



For the record: I don't write sex scenes. Period. My characters don't necessarily need to have a sex life. They're usually too busy being shot at.



In my novels, women are people, that they are women isn't all that special to me.  Of the main cast of A Pius Man, I have four women -- a secret service agent, a spy, an Interpol cop, and a forensic scientist.  Three out of four of them handle themselves well in combat -- two out of the three of them can give most of the main characters a run for their money.



In fact, I think the women are better action stars than my male characters -- Sean Ryan is the only main character who is overly equipped for combat (mostly through skill than through muscle). Giovanni Figlia has some combat experience, but he's mostly in a position of management, performing the job as detective and commander of the Swiss Guards. Egyptian cop Hashim Abasi is, literally, a member of a think tank. Scott Murphy, while he is a spy, can't even fire a gun well (which is why his trailer has him being knocked back by the recoil of his own gun).



Over the course of my life, I have found most women to be my equals, if not my betters. Of course, as I grow older, I have discovered that there are plenty of women who are screwed up, just in different ways than I'd expect.  But, in my books, I don't really have a weak female character. Ever. Man or woman, my characters can always find some sort of inner strength, even if it's pure, unadulterated stubbornness.  Though, as I think back on it, I think my female characters all have more combat training.



Are all of my female characters beautiful? They are in my head, though I don't know if they are on the page  For me, I find that there are few truly ugly women, and it usually takes effort.  I very often find that personality does make an appearance, and mar or improve the features. I'm told that none of the women I've dated have been beautiful, but, apparently, I've always managed to find something special in them. Give me time, I can usually find something in them that is lovely.



And, while on the other hand, there have been more occasions than I can think of where I have looked at a woman who is, superficially, quite attractive, but I can never really pass judgement if they're "beautiful" until they smile, or get excited about something -- even then, I concentrate more on the eyes. That's where I find the real beauty more often than not.....



And I'm starting to sound like a romantic sap, I apologize.  But that's pretty much how my brain works ... or doesn't. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? You decide.

FAQ: Where do you get your ideas?

I've touched on this briefly during the series on how I created A Pius Man, but, apparently, the question many authors are besieged with is “How do you come up with your ideas?”



Short answer: formal viewpoint. Or a functional mentality.



For example, last year, I saw Forbes Magazine with cover article about how al-Qaeda was losing money, and it suggested that Osama "needed a new business model."



I can not make this stuff up.



The point is, people look at things from a “formal viewpoint.” I would look at a large pile of money and think of where a character would hide it. An accountant would probably count it all. A pyromaniac would look at it as stuff to burn.

[More below the break]



In my case... to use an example, in 1998, my family went to London and stopped off to see the Crown Jewels. Everyone else stared at the jewels. I went and looked at the security. I didn't take notes, since I didn't want to be thrown out of the Tower of London by the fastest possible route [the jewels were a few floors up]. The British Museum got the same treatment from me -- The Elgin Marbles from the Greek Parthenon had their own wing.... so, if the Greeks really wanted them back, they could steal them with a few construction helicopters and just airlift the whole wing—the Israelis did that with an Egyptian radar tower once to great effect.



Basically, it's a matter of looking at things from a certain viewpoint. I suspect that if I go see the Mona Lisa, the majority of my time will be pondering how someone could disable the security guards, the electronic surveillance, and walk away with a few paintings from the Louvre. Though the answer would probably be to steal something from the basement storage area—less security, without the individual alarms on every piece.... hmm, now that's an idea....can someone scan for Semtex at the entrypoint to the Louvre? Hrm...



The sad thing is that the above was really thought up as I wrote it.



I created one character because a teacher in high school, on the first day of class, said “I'm a wanted terrorist. I've been hunted for 19 years.... I can kill you with two fingers.” He was the creative writing teacher, so we went with it....



And I wondered... “What if he was telling the truth?”



He's in a back pocket somewhere, for when I get around to writing that novel. The annoying thing is, I have it outlined....



Some, like Harlan Ellison, have described writing as a compulsion, and that's because that's how we seem to be wired. Be it the Tower of London or the British Museum, writers wonder how we can do something with where we are, what we're doing, some little factoid we picked up, or a stray comment.



I don't think I've ever gone to someplace and not wondered how to blow it up, shoot it up, or what would be required to do something like that.



Rebekah Hendershot, author of Masks, described a similar experience when creating her book: “Why doesn't LA have any superheroes?” Answer: “Because something killed them all. And it's still here.”



With A Pius Man, Scott “Mossad” Murphy came out of the mass of Evangelicals flocking to Israel after 9-11. What does Israel do with all of these meshuge goyim? And what do you do with them if they want to join the military, or even the intelligence services? Answer: the goyim brigade—Mossad agents who not only "don't look Jewish," but aren't.  Murphy was just a throwaway character I had come up with to use “someday.” He had literally been shoved into a notebook and left there for three years. I had used him once as a supporting character in one book, and all but forgot him. Later, he came in handy.



And that's why writers have notebooks—to keep track of all the random neurons firing off with ideas. You never know when there's going to be something that comes in handy. Stephen King supposedly has a trunk filled with notebooks of ideas past.



So, if you ever think that a writer is odd, well, they are. They look at things from different points of view—if only because they have to be able to see things from the points of view of different people as they write them. Stephen King writes about things that scare him... and that seems to be everything... the author of Rebekah saw how much LA had been shortchanged of superheroes and decided to explain why. I think up various and sundry ways to kill someone with a ballpoint pen (I'm on nine).



That's how we find ideas. We're wired to.



But then again, who'd go into this profession if we weren't?

Don't Panic: a writer's guide to disaster

I should start by mentioning that this is going to be less about writing disasters, and more about a character reacting to them.

My characters have all sorts of problems.

In my books, I've had people confronted with Being beaten to death, Destruction of public property, heartbreak, a small war, as well as vampires and the end of the world.

In most cases, this is easy for writers to put down. Fear is easy, everyone has experienced it in one way or another.

In my case, not so much.

There are two moments in my life that highlight the reasons my characters react the way they do.

One New Year's eve, I was over at a friend's house.  My sister decided to be helpful in the kitchen, and went to work cutting vegetables with a mandolin slicer.

Somehow, my sister managed to cut off the pad of her little finger.

The husband of the house couldn't look at the sight of blood. The wife felt immediately ill. My sister felt faint from blood loss almost instantly.

I rolled my eyes, sighed, made sure that the severed part clicked into place with the rest of the meat puzzle of my sister's finger, wrapped it, and drove her to the nearest ER.  We were seen immediately, since it was only 6pm on New Year's eve.  Midnight would have been a different kettle of fish, I'm sure.

I didn't freak out before, during, of after the incident. I was mostly annoyed that the evening might be shot to hell.  I went out into the parking lot with my cell phone and started calling people to wish them all a happy new year.  It took about 90 minutes for my sister's nine stitches to put her back together again. And a fun time was had by all.

And this isn't gloating. This isn't "I kept my head while others lost theirs!" moment. This was a moment of irritation, annoyance, and "Damnit, I have to play ambulance driver? Really?"

Now, you could say this happened to someone else. so why should I worry.

Then there was the time I was accused of being a terrorist....
[more below the break]

Building Character: Scott "Mossad" Murphy.

**Spoiler alert.  Be sure to read O Little Town of Bethlehem and Tinker, Tailor, Goyim, Spy before reading the blog.**



Two of the short stories posted on this site have, thus far, been about Scott “Mossad” Murphy.  Mysteriously, they all seem to fit with the end product of Murphy in the novel. I think it helps that I essentially wrote a short biography for Scott, like I have for all of my other characters. The character becomes alive in my head, and all I need to do is drop him into a situation and let him play.



Though it wasn't until I wrote Tinker, Tailor, Goyim, Spy that I realized how much of a stiff Scott really was. But, then again, I don't know too many party animals who want to be accountants when they grow up.



And by the time of O Little Town of Bethlehem, I only just managed to hint at Scott's isolation. Not only did he not fit in anywhere in Israel, even his own office, he had just killed or arrested most of the people he had spent the previous three weeks with. At that attrition rate, it's hard to keep a long term friendship going.



And then I started considering how much the character of Scott Murphy fit with the end product in the novel.  Despite all of the new things I discovered about his character, and the more his past has developed in front of me, the puzzle pieces of his life still fit together.

[More below the break.]





Tinker, Tailor, Goyim, Spy

This story wasn't that hard to come up with. I had Scott's origin story in mind from day one. But it was just easier to tell it from the point of view of anyone but Scott, especially since the last sequence looks much more impressive if you don't see how that particular magic trick was done.



And, as always, there was the problem of politics in regards to intelligence work-- not only between the government and Mossad, but the internal politics as well. Hence telling this tale from the point of view of Mossad Chief Imi Morgenstern (one part Imi Lictenfield, creator of Krav Maga, and one part Amy Morgenstern, one of my Krav instructors).



One of the things I had to change about Scott was his age. When I wrote A Pius Man the first time, 2011 was the future. Things that were high-tech at the time can now be gotten as an app on the iPhone. Under the original rubric, where 9-11 happened when Scott was in college, at current rate of speed, Scott would be in his mid-30s by the time the book is published. So I had to make him younger.



Surprisingly, it fit better.



The Scott Murphy of my novel is smart enough to never need a gun, avoid every firefight, and plan in such a way that his plans are the weapon. So why shouldn't he have skipped a year or two of school? And if you're a workaholic, who had finished college courses in high school, college is not that difficult with a full courseload during every possible session. And being a workaholic is a good survival trait—he harder he works, the faster he could get out into the real world. Why? Because Scott had never been described as “attractive” in any physical sense, so he's isolated by looks, by youth, and by intellect (I know something about two out of three of them); the real world had more options for him. The faster he went through school and started reality, the better.



And then 9-11 happened.



To quote Isaac Asimov, beware the wrath of a patient man.



Murphy is very patient.



So, making him younger fit in with the character. He was able to join Mossad after 9-11 to become the first member of the Goyim Brigade, and still stay in his twenties by the time A Pius Man (hopefully) gets published.  If the book takes too much longer, 9-11 will have to happen when he's still a teenager.  His career choice of "accountant" will have to be because his idea of fighting terrorism is to defund them, and steal their money with a pencil instead of a bank heist.



But that's one rewrite I'd like to avoid.

O Little Town of Bethlehem



This was made up completely from wholecloth. I was originally going to do a Sean A.P. Ryan Christmas story in California, entitle it Coyote Christmas (little yappy dogs being fed to a coyote was part of it), but it didn't really mesh together well. Trying to make Sean appear neutral as opposed to violently deranged (in a bad way) or in some way heroic was too much to ask.



As far as A Pius Man is concerned, Sean's alignment is Chaotic Neutral when the book opens.



So, what to do for Christmas? A time of peace and love with a story that starts in Bethlehem …



Oh, wait, Bethlehem is near Scott.



Yee haw.



I threw Sean A.P. Ryan into the opening because all intelligence work starts somewhere, and sometimes with people who are not the nicest folk on the planet. Which is why the interrogation starts with someone hanging upside down off the Empire State Building. Because it's one way to get someone's attention. And, I can keep Sean looking neutral by doing something morally ambiguous while not outright vile. Jack Bauer did more to suspects on 24, and he was the good guy. However, Sean does have this amazing apathy when it comes to what happens to his enemies, hence the “Oh well, if he beat me to the ground floor, I know I didn't attach the bungee cord.”



For the middle of the story, I wanted everything to look like it was going to go straight to Hell. So it would work best if I just showed it from the terrorists' point of view.



And for the end of O Little Town of Bethlehem, in addition to a wrap-up section that would explain how Scott managed to make everything happen, I had little hints of how cut off he is. He's working on Christmas morning, and he has nowhere else to go.



This still fits. I had put into A Pius Man an offhand comment about times he had spent with women who the Mossad used in honey traps. They gave him details on wooing, and seduction, and other activities he wanted nothing to do with. Given Scott's unbending nature, that lesson plan may have had to start with several of those women tying him to a bed. The rest of the events would be as funny as hell … it would have an NC-17 rating, but it would still be hilarious.



By the time of A Pius Man, Scott Murphy will have been a spy for years. He is isolated from the outside world by being a spy. He's isolated from the Mossad community by being a goy. His work will be his life.



And then, one day he gets called to Rome … And then the fun starts.

Bad Romance: How to be a Cynical Romantic.

“[T]hink about it ... You know how good this is? .... How right it feels?  .... How easy it was? .... It just isn't f**ked up enough to really be you and me.”  ~Harry Dresden, in Jim Butcher's short story "Love Hurts."

In case the readers of this blog have not caught on yet, I'm a little strange.



At which point, I can just see each of you recollecting every other instance of borderline schizophrenia that I have described in my blogs on writing, and answering: “Duh.”



In this case, I have two very strong streaks in my personality. Lots of cynicism, and lots of romanticism …



On the one hand, I believe that all people are essentially good ... on the other, I believe that groups of people are stupid.



I believe in meeting someone, and being in love with them for the rest of my life ... and I go into first dates wondering how fast the phrase “let's just be friends” will appear in the conversation.



I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, and in Jesus Christ His only Son Our Lord ... and on the other hand, if one more person mindlessly spouts random Bible passage without knowing ANYTHING about the context or the meaning, I will be sorely tempted to hurt them.



And my problem is that I see nothing contradictory about the above statements. “Good” does not equal “smart;” and when people get into large groups, the average IQ only goes down. “Belief” doesn't automatically mean “theology scholar;” and if someone becomes a monomaniac about a favorite passage of Revelations (which reads like the author is on magic mushrooms), it's hard to do anything about it.



My cynicism and sharp, biting opinions have brought people to me, asking for “relationship advice” …. I usually specialized in “Anti-Cyrano” letters for friends of mine, where I write a letter crystallizing a person's feelings and putting it into a diatribe at his or her ex, blasting said ex with enough wit that s/he feels like s/he brought a knife to an artillery duel.



On the other hand, when I can't talk to one I care about, I settle for reading instant message logs.  Can you say "sap"?



About a year ago, I started writing a love letter. I listed all the reasons why I was falling for this one woman. I explained I felt drawn to her wit, her IQ, her looks. I liked how many of our interests aligned. How good a friend she was to me. We were made for each other …



And other romantic tripe.



By the end of the letter, I told her that the whole thing was a stupid idea. I had met her once. We lived over a thousand miles apart. We talked on the phone, but that was no reason for me to become a romantic sap about it. I care about her too much to put her together with an obvious nutjob like me. She should do the sane thing, and run as far away from me as possible.



Before I had even finished the letter, I had made several conclusions about another character a writer friend was working on – someone who was also crazy, but smart enough to know he was crazy, and if he fell in love with someone, he would know better than to inflict his crazy on anyone else.



I don't think I'm the only person who could start a love letter, and end with character profiles for a fictional character, after trying to talk the object of my affection out of associating with me further, for her own good.



If you thought I was strange before, now you know better.



This actually comes in handy for writing a love story for spies in A Pius Man.



You knew I had to relate it back to the novel somehow.



As mentioned, A Pius Man also has a love story in there, between two people who are constantly questioning what the hell they think they're doing.



Manana Shushurin of the German BND, and Scott “Mossad” Murphy are brought together to investigate the assassination of a high-ranking al-Qaeda strategist.... the only reason anyone cares is that no one is claiming credit for the killing.  The CIA thinks Mossad did it.  Mossad thinks the CIA did it.  And then they realize that no one they know did it.



Enter the two most diametrically opposed characters I've ever written.

Manana is breathtakingly, jaw-slackeningly gorgeous. And Scott is pale and pasty, and survives by being invisible.  Instead of drooling over her looks, or undressing her with his eyes, Scott's first thought is “I hope to God you're not the one I'm meeting.” Her first thoughts aren't recorded, but as the book progresses, they fit well together.



Scott is a stiff. He is professional, and disciplined, and “Damnit, if I stare at her, someone will slip a knife into my ribs.”

There were odd little things at first. Scott reads a document over her shoulder, and she stretches, only noticing he's there when her hand brushes against his head. And Scott is staring so intently at the document, he blinks when she grazes his head, he apologizes profusely. She laughs at him, ruffles his hair, and calls him cute. I couldn't tell if she was flirting with him, or treating him like a fond new puppy. Later, after a firefight, where he gets rattled (because he rarely comes near the business end of a pistol unless he's already pulled the firing pins), she reassures him.

And the more stiff and awkward he acts, the more … lighthearted and playful she becomes. When things are quiet, Manana goes through the book as though spygames are just that, a game. When the bullets start flying, she's the first to fire back, if she's not firing first. She's the part of him that he's missing. He's the person who tries to ignore her looks and treats her like a person.



Throughout the novel, both of them are wondering what the hell they're doing, with various excuses: Have both of them been alone for so long, and are so desperate, that each is latching onto the first person of interest? Seriously, what moron would fall in love in the middle of a stakeout? And why is s/he kissing me and … nevermind.



As I said, I am a romantic sap. Thankfully, the cynical side of me takes that sap and smacks me over the head with it.

Then all heck breaks loose.  There are automatic weapons, and there will be blood.  And by the end of the book, the two of them will have to change roles.  Scott will have to take up a gun, even though he has only rudimentary knowledge about how to use it.  And Manana Shushurin will have to do a lot of running.



And there will be Manana standing over Sean Ryan's blood-soaked body.  But that's another story.

Catholic Conspiracies II: Revenge of the Vatican Ninjas.

Last week, I mentioned that the vast, massive conspiracy theories about the Catholic Church amuse me. I discussed some specific issues and theories, but I find them all funny, almost no matter the details. Why?

Dear God in Heaven, where do I start?



The theories are so ludicrous, I hardly know where to begin.



SECRET SOCIETIES



One running theme of most of the conspiracy theories is that there is a “conspiracy of silence” running around within the Vatican, the hierarchy, an order, pick one or all. This pops up in almost any fiction where a Catholic priest appears.



Given the news of the last decade, anyone should see an immediate problem. Not only does the Church of Rome write everything down, they never throw anything out. This is a bureaucracy that has held onto the divorce petition from Henry VIII of England, written in the early 16th century.  We've held onto it for nearly five hundred years, and we haven't thrown it out yet.



If there were a conspiracy in the church, there will likely be paperwork to document it, and they'd hold onto it with their dying breath. Bad habit for a conspiracy.



But, the way I look at it, the Vatican is essentially the world's biggest marble office building, complete with Dilberts and the occasional pointy-haired boss … or pointy-hatted boss.



In the current day and age, any bureaucracy can keep a secret for a few years. But two thousand? Really?



My major problem with that idea isn't so much a matter of my religious background (Catholic), my educational background (history and Philosophy), or anything of the sort. Bureaucracies tend to leak like a sieve. Even the army and law enforcement.



The FBI spawned Deepthroat—a loser who got passed over for promotion.



The Pentagon—Pentagon papers, anyone?



Most intelligence agencies have politicians in the mix somewhere, so that'll screw over practically anyone …



You can have whistle blowers in practically any organization...



The Catholic Church is also a bureaucracy. One disgruntled employee is all you need. End of secret.



Last week, I mentioned that one organization in the Church people like to pick on is the Society of Jesus, a.k.a., the Jesuits.



The Jesuits started as a missionary order, and tended to go out to new worlds, seek out new civilizations, boldly go where no man had gone before … and sometimes get eaten by the locals. Now a teaching order, they've spawned more stupidity than orthodoxy in the Church. If you look up Liberation Theology, Jesuits had a hand in spawning that steaming pile of theological gruel--a gruel that has been banned by every Pope since its inception.



The other order that conspiracy theorists like to shoot at is the Opus Dei … Where do I start? According to reporter John A. Allen, all you need to do to get the Opus Dei to open up is buy them a few rounds. Then the trouble becomes trying to shut them up.



And the biggest problem with using them in a conspiracy: Opus Dei is primarily a lay organization. Of it's nearly 90,000 members, only 2% are priests. I'm sorry, a Catholic organization of civilians are going to be privy to ancient secrets and conspiracies? There is a disconnect here.



THE MUSCLE



Also, I have another problem, one that has great big flashing red lights. All of these big secrets, threats to the Catholic Church, maybe even all of Christendom, are being eliminated. Lives are snuffed out, voices silenced.



Depending on who you ask, Catholics killed President Lincoln and JFK, and we're pulling the strings behind President Obama.



With the tinfoil helmet brigade, the Vatican is so scary, covers up so much, silences so many, controls so much of the planet even in THIS day and age.  Then we have to have muscle men.  We must have kneebreakers  This must mean that the Pope has his own personal assassination squad. People to kill at the nod of his pointy hat … wait.



Matt's Vatican Ninja rendering

Does this mean … that the Vatican has Ninjas?



Hmm, Vatican Ninjas … I wondered why all of those ancient Soviet leaders dropped dead after John Paul II was shot.

I can see it now. Dark, shadowy figures clad in the blue and gold colors of the Swiss Guard. Each of them either Swiss with Special Forces background, or former soldiers who join the priesthood. Once they join the shadowy ranks of the Papal hitmen, they are taught to kill up close with a rosary-garrote. When you turn your back, they smack you over the head with a halberd.  For longer distances, a boomerang shaped like a cross comes out of the darkness and takes down armed guards (It worked in the video game Castlevania).

 

And maybe, just maybe, they can have Throwing Stars of David for every time they worked with the Mossad.

Vatican Ninjas would be awesome!

I want my Vatican Ninjas!

Sigh … I guess I'll have to write my own.

How would I do it?  Simple: the Catholic Church has a screening process to weed out psychos, pederasts, etc.  That's why the majority of bad priests were ordained before the new screening process was installed (I say "new screening process", but it came out in the early 90s).  If I wanted to create actual Vatican Ninjas, I would forward all of the "psycho" pile to a special division, where they can weed out the "special" ones, ones that can be sent to training to Kill For the Lord!  Muahahahaha! 

Problem: who wants a psycho as a hirling?  Seriously?  While the priesthood MUST, statistically, get some nutjobs applying to their ranks, who'd want to bring in a crazy who's impossible to control?  I mean, that's as out there as having an assassin who is a psychotic albino monk with a bad limp ....



Oh, wait, nevermind.

The biggest problem: back to the pointy-hatted Dilbert boss, and the Vatican bureaucracy.  If there were Vatican Ninjas, there would be enough memoirs from them by now to fill a library.

End of the day, the vast conspiracies around and about the Vatican are laughable. In America, our Bishops don't have the charisma to lead a pack of vampires to a blood bank.  Trying to get people to actually teach the faith correctly seems to be impossible (my Catholic schools were nothing to write home about). We can hardly get Cardinals to line up in a row, or organize halfway decent public relations, yet the Vatican is supposed to be leading the charge to take over the world.

Right now, I would sooner believe in a "conspiracy" once jokingly suggested to me by R. Hendershot: that Dan Brown and Stephanie Meyer are in a plot to overhype their books to the entire universe.

However, if there is someone out there in charge of accounting for this vast, Roman Catholic conspiracy, I want a paycheck. Thank you.

 

And this is my rendering of a Vatican Ninja.

This is why I'm grateful to Matt.

And what am I going to be doing tonight?

Why, what I do every night …

TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!!!



On paper.

With my Vatican Ninjas.

Muahaha.

O Little Town of Bethlehem, A Christmas Story.

Sean A.P. Ryan -- mercenary, madman, and enthusiastic worker of mayhem -- has a rigorous interrogation of an arms dealer in New York.  Information changes hands, and the clock starts ticking down to Christmas Eve.  Bethlehem is about to have a very bad Christmas, unless someone can stop it.



But the terrorists have a bold, creative mastmind behind this plan.  And nobody can stop what he has in mind. 



Thankfully, there are plenty of Nobodies on call.



For the record:  I may have gotten too colorful with the scene breaks -- Scribd can't seem to decide whether or not to show them, so I've tried to fix them. Hopefully, it'll stay fixed.



Enjoy.





O Little Town of Bethlehem

The complete stories of A Pius Man.

After trying to keep track of everything on this page, I decided to do a little sorting.  In this blog will be every short story in the canon of A Pius Man.  Every short story, every promotion, and every short story by memo.

And, yes, this will be updated as time goes on.



As of now, this is every single story of A Pius Man.







1. The Secret Service Is Sent to Rome: One of my first promotions, when I wrote "memos of A Pius Man."  The Secret Service is known all over the world as the best protectors the world over. The new, security conscious, Pope wants to have the Secret Service audit his security. How'd you like that assignment?



The Secret Service is Sent to Rome



2.  Another from the memos series.  WE HAVE A POPE! was supposed to be about the dawn of a new age in the Catholic church ... or at least the dawn of a new papacy.  This pope was created because I wanted someone who people at large could look at and wonder: He's as right wing as Attila the Hun, and Fox news loves him, what could he be capable of?



WE HAVE A POPE. The Election of Pope Pius XIII



3. Resumes and Emails.  This is the very first promo of the memos series: The resume of one Sean Ryan.  It was supposed to cast doubts about what was going on at the Vatican.  You'll see that there's good reason for it.



A Pius Man Memos, First Promo -- Resumes and emails.



4. The Mossad in Rome. The memos series has only one more to go after this.  Scott "Mossad" Murphy is in Rome on the trail of a dead terrorist-- if only to find out whether or not his killer was doing everyone a favor, or if they were up to something far more sinister.    This is what happens when you send Mossad To Rome



A Pius Man: Mossad In Rome.





5. The Inside Man.  For any good conspiracy-thriller-mystery, you need a traitor. After all, why make it easy for the heroes to get anything done?  This is a text from a higher up in the conspiracy to the insider. If I'm really good at this, I won't tell you anything that you can't figure out from the first 50 pages of the novel. And if I'm VERY good at this, I'll tell you everything and you won't even know it.





A Pius Man: The Inside Man





6. Erin Go Boom.  This next is a prequel story for A Pius Man, set on St. Patrick's Day. It stars Fr. Francis Williams, a main player in APM -- though as hero or villain, that's a question.  And with a title like Erin Go Boom, you know this will end in gunfire.





Erin Go Boom





7. The Pirate King: Some people are mad, bad, and dangerous to know.  In A Pius Man I have a mercenary who has body counts in the triple digits, and has caused millions in property damage.   This is a tale of what happens when Somali pirates decide to take over the wrong ship.  And The Pirate King faces someone more ruthless than he had ever dreamed.



The Pirate King





8.  Tinker, Tailor, Goyim, Spy. I started a contest in 2010.  When I reached 100 likes, I would post the origin of the character Scott "Mossad" Murphy, an Irish Catholic who works for the Israeli Mossad.  This was how he got in, and how the Mossad's "Goyim Brigade" was born. 



Tinker, Tailor, Goyim, Spy.



9. And last, but not least, the popular "God Hates .... Superman?"  Inspired by my friend R. Hendershot, of Masks.



God Hates... Superman?







More to come.  My next bit of short fiction is my Christmas story .... O Little Town of Bethlehem.  We start with an interrogation at the top of the Empire State Building.  Rope is involved.



UPDATE: I have the "Secret Origins" of my more dangerous characer: Sean A.P. Ryan.  The title is One Way to Stay out of Jail.

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A Pius Synopsis

The below is basically how the fly leaf of a A Pius Man dustjacket would look like.

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A Pius Man is a mystery with too many suspects.



In Rome, an old terrorist is blown out the window of a hotel and crash-lands on a car at the gates of the Vatican. A figure in a priest’s robes is seen running from the scene. But the body on the windshield is just the beginning for a team of six unlikely investigators from around the world. Each pair of hands on this case has a past, and a few secrets … and an axe to grind. They don’t want to work together. They don’t want this case.



And one of them just might be the killer.



Is it....



Sean Ryan, an American stuntman turned mercenary and self-described “cleanser of the gene pool”? He’s supposed to be in Rome to train priests in combat, and old habits die hard.



Then there’s Giovanni Figlia, a homicide cop for the Pope who fears only paperwork. He was best known for starting soccer games with bishops in the Borgia gardens … until the corpse landed on the hood of his Jetta.



Could it be a former U.S. Army chaplain who was meeting with the murdered man on a weekly basis? Did the Jesuit priest who’s killed men with his bare hands know that his weekly luncheon date had just murdered a researcher in the Vatican Archives?



And what about Scott "Mossad" Murphy of Israeli intelligence’s “Goyim Brigade”? He and his partner are in the middle of investigating another murder at the Vatican … this one a high-ranking Muslim leader with connections to al Qaeda.



Into this mix comes Maureen McGrail, an Irish Interpol agent with a bitter past with Sean Ryan. She’s working her own murder case, related to the controversial canonization of Pope Pius XII, sometimes known as “Hitler’s Pope.” And guess who Interpol wants to send to Rome … ?



And the final, most distressing suspect is Joshua Kutjok....aka Pope Pius XIII, a right-wing African pope with rumors of blood in his past and the stated goal of turning “Hitler’s Pope” into the “Hero of the Holocaust.” To accomplish this goal, he’s already let terrorists into the Vatican Archives … would he kill a man who stood in his way?



In A Pius Man, six unlikely heroes must work together to unravel a web of intrigue and murder that entwines one of the most controversial figures of the twentieth century. Was Pius XII a Nazi collaborator who deliberately let millions of Jews die? Has the Vatican covered up the truth for more than 60 years? Or has someone perpetrated a decades-long smear campaign? And what will happen to six strangers trying to finally bring the truth to light?

For Those of You Just Tuning into A Pius Man.....

[This is the Short version of how A Pius Man came to be.  The longer version is 13 pages long, in fort parts, and starts here]



In graduate school, I was a history major, and I did a paper on Pope Pius XII and his history during the holocaust—essentially: what did he do, what did he know, and when did he know it. I went through the standard procedure: primary documents (papers of the day), and secondary sources (books written later by people who weren't there at the time). Along the way, I came across non-historians, forgeries from convicted criminals, historians who had done jail time for slander, and deliberate liars (for example, one idiot said that “X person should have done Y thing”... but cited articles where it was STATED that X did Y, making him either brain dead or a liar).



One of the most interesting things about this is that one side of this conflict doesn't acknowledge the other. One side takes the opposition's statements and theories, vivisect them with a scalpel, the end result looking like shredded wheat, and the second side acts as though there are no alternate theories, interpretations or evidence.



Anyway, by the time I was finished, it was fairly clear who was right. I had enough primary documents to work on that alone. I left motivations alone, because I wasn't going to break out my Ouija board to ask a dead pope what he was thinking at the time. “These are the actual events; to the best of our knowledge, this is what happened, and this is how the people reacted to it AT THE TIME.”



The average reader is probably thinking “Duh.” The average reader would be right. No, I wasn't going for high intellectual value. Much of the paper was a simple narrative, and many of the conclusions were very “duh” worthy. I finished the paper, game over.



Shortly thereafter came some … other books. Novels where the history was so bad, it was painful to read. And people were getting their history from these books; in some cases, more than from actual texts. Did these inspire me on a rampaging crusade? No. I was bored, I moved on.





Then I read a completely different novel, also using historical events as a background to the primary action. Premise … nothing new, really. Evil Nazi Catholic church, blah blah, snore … "But, hmm, wait, I know that character's name. It's historical …" Skip to the back of the book to read the author's note, which collected the works used to create that novel. I had assumed that this author had read one side of the argument, and wrote another “evil Catholic church” story based on that. But, no, I had read these books. All of them. He had done his homework, and had completely and utterly screwd up the history. I could take it if he had just said “I'm writing fiction, not commenting on a historical debate.” But he took a side and even lied about facts that everyone agreed on.



Dominoes fell in my brain. People not only read this crap, they believed this crap. Most readers would have almost no intellectual background to separate the wheat from the chaff (seriously, how many people read about the religious and cultural activities of Europe in World War II?)



My reaction was somewhere akin to the quote of the eminent physician and research scientist, Doctor Bruce Banner: Hulk smash.



Fine. Two could play at this game. If people got their history from entertainment, I would take up the strangest project ever imagined. I would write a thriller that was (a) thrilling, (b) factually accurate about the Catholic Church in the Holocaust.



Now how the HELL was I going to do that?

**********

Before I continue, I should make something clear. I've wanted to write for a living since I was sixteen. By the time I had started A Pius Man, I had written almost a dozen other novels; a space opera; a thriller trilogy about a Secret Service Agent and a CIA assassin; a murder mystery in a Catholic high school summer camp, and another at a science fiction convention; a hostage novel; I won't discuss the short stories. They were not published, but I had other things to do—high school, two bachelor's in three years, a master's in one, I was generally busy.



My point: writing wasn't an issue. I had more or less taught myself keyboarding, and had developed a mental habit of innovation out of the weirdest little things, as well as the ability to write for thirty hours straight.



But now, a new project. Working on a thriller encapsulating everything I had learned about Pope Pius XII. So, when in doubt, the title had to be a bad pun. Title: A Pius Man.



Step one, where to set it?



A few years prior, I had wanted to make a murder mystery set in the Vatican. I had never gotten past page one, but I wanted to have the scene open with a dead priest and a knife in his back.



So, when dealing with the Roman Catholic church, go to Rome. Check.



We need a conspiracy—what fiction with the Catholic church in it doesn't have some kind of deep dark conspiracy? Not counting The Exorcist.... few. Who's behind it? Well, the standard options are the government, the Church, or intelligence agencies.... I came up with a fun combination of all three.



Next step: who was I going to use in this mischegas of a plot?



One character was someone I had already invented—Commander Giovanni Figlia of the Vatican Office of Vigilance. His job is to protect the Pope. But if the Pope is guilty of a crime, or of conspiracy to commit murder, then what can he do? And just how do you arrest a pontiff anyway?



… But what could possibly get him involved in a conspiracy going back decades?



Oh, that's easy. Kill an academic. Someone going through the Vatican archives. The “secret” archives, even though that's a bad translation error. Kill someone looking into Pope Pius XII.



Now, are we going to kill this guy in the Vatican? Really? Because I can't imagine how else we're going to involve Figlia...



Oooooh, wait, a bomb can fling a body a good distance, right? I can work with that.



Next, we need a fish out of water who we can explain stuff to, someone who fell down the rabbit hole of European Catholicism ... how about an American Jew? Enter Wilhelmina “Villie” Goldberg. Immediately, I had a vision of a short Italian acquaintance come to mind. She'd do for a physical model—about 4'11”. She'd have to be part of a security service, and making her American would make her a Secret Service agent. Though she would be a little short for a human shield … so, she's simply provided technical support. Have her be there when we drop a body on Figlia... or his general area, at least. Check.



But, if the Israelis wouldn't be interested in this subject, who would? So, send in Mossad. And have a dead terrorist with no confirmed killer—it looks a bit suspicious. And a second dead body connected to Pius XII, seriously suspicious.



The Germans would be involved anyway, given the subject matter—they are sort of touchy about the 1930s and 40s. So, throw in someone from German Intelligence. Two spies, check.



A neutral party would be good; someone who has no investment in Pius XII being guilty, innocent, or not guilty by reason of insanity … if the Pope were to tour the Middle East, there would be a security specialist to coordinate with Figlia. But it would be too easy to have him be visibly neutral and good. Hmm... oh, yeah, it seems that he stoned his wife to death. That'll work.



Check one investigative team: Papal Security, the Secret Service, and someone from, oh, Egypt.



And we need a wild card. Just to make everyone wonder what the hell goes on at the Vatican ... well, the man who shot Pope John Paul II was first jumped by a nun. And if that should ever happen again, I would sure as hell want to train the priests and the nuns of the Vatican … Enter mercenary Sean A.P. Ryan. Wild card, check.



And what good is a mystery without a murdered witness? They have Vatican trials for saints. Witnesses appear. Make it an Irish witness … I had another character all ready and sketched out: Interpol Agent Maureen McGrail. And I had given her a previous professional dislike of Sean Ryan. We get to have some more fun that way. And her arrival will confirm that the events were all about Pope Pius XII—a dead academic may be accident, a murdered terrorist coincidence, but a murdered witness is enemy action.



Now, we're in a thriller with the Catholic church, we must have a highly suspicious looking pope, someone so invested in the reputation of Pius XII, he'd do practically anything to see it's protected. Hence Pope Pius XIII, who wants to make the World War II pontiff a saint, make him a figure to rally around....for...? Oh, something. Make it Darfur. And make him somewhere to the right of Attila the Hun. He's using Pope Pius XII as a banner, Pius XII as hero and saint.



But, the Pope needs something every good Evil Overlord requires—a lackey. We need another priest. Make him former special forces. He has martial training, kicks ass, and he has silver hair, and pale skin—no one would ever take him for an albino. Of course not. Suspicious looking lackey, check.



A three-layered plot with a wandering priest tying them all together. Conspiracy, check. Characters, check.



Now it has to be written … Oh, shoot me now …

*

During that winter break, I had gone through great pains to finish my thesis. That made up three credits of a semester where I had only two other classes, and no social life. The paper was mostly finished before the semester had even begun. I was even more finished when I pounded out two term papers before the first month was out. What part of “no social life” do you not understand?



I started writing A Pius Man in February, 2004. I was finished with it by April. There were a lot of nights where I was up until three in the morning. The story wouldn't get out of my head or leave me alone. For the first time in my life, instead of making it up when I went along, I did an outline. I drew sketches and diagrams. I even footnoted the darned thing.



And it all came naturally to me. The spies look into a dead terrorist research the Vatican archives, and they discover yet another dead researcher—a crime investigated by Giovanni Figlia. They would have to find Figlia and company. “Sinister looking priest #1” would have to keep up as well, to make certain that nothing inconvenient would be discovered. The Interpol cop from Ireland would have to fly in and confirm that all this was, yes, linked together to Pope Pius XII.



And, thanks to maps on the internet, I can make the bus terminal arriving from the airport be one point on a straight line from the Vatican to the Spanish steps. And for some reason, I couldn't get one image out of my head—an armored SUV going down the Spanish steps.



After that, the characters had to connect the dots, do the research, and most of all—what is worth killing over for a secret over sixty years old? If someone proved that Pope Pius XII was a Nazi, or that he was a hero, who would kill for that?



End result: the book was eight hundred pages long. Two hundred thousand words, when the average novel was only one hundred thousand. And I had brought in EVERY, SINGLE, CHARACTER I had ever written, over a dozen books, excluding the science fiction ones. Because what had started with a simple and straightforward murder turned into an all out war, and I needed every person I could conceive of to support what protagonists I had standing. A very small army of light against a large army of darkness, and I didn't even have Sam Raimi.



From 2004-2007, there were several variations on the story. The first had an additional character. One had a character introduced from the very beginning who was used to bring in most of the history; he didn't disappear, but he was shifted. One version took out about 50% of the story and made it around five hundred pages.



Then there was the easy version. Split it up into three books. One character gets deleted, one gets transferred into book two, several sequences get shifted so that the character moments aren't all in one place or another, and ta da, instant trilogy.



Two major plot points in the story became a matter of what intelligence agencies call “blowback.” Blowback means that an operation has come back to bite you on the ass: either an assassination went wrong and the target wants to return the favor; some dictator dislikes you blowing up his favorite weapons research facility and would like to bury you, that sort of thing.



If I used the blowback as the basis for completely different books, then dang, book one is only over a hundred thousand words. Excellent. Fill in details and character in books two and three, not to mention “previously, in A Pius Man” moments that I can use to pad the book.... or keep the audience up to speed. Either way.... I still had too many people. Book had nine characters— the opening cast of the Lord of the Rings. Book two had more to come. I still needed to take out people IN ADDITION to those I had already shot, stabbed, and blown up.



After looking through book two (tentatively titled A Pius Legacy), I looked for the person who had the fewest amount of lines. Who could disappear from the book with no problem at all? I found one character who had been mentioned a whopping half a dozen times. Suddenly, upon a review of A Pius Man, this character had a shiny new target on their back.

***********

In my usual description of A Pius Man, things slip through the cracks. It's a thriller. It's a war story. It's apologetics with bullets. It's a political techno thriller. There's a shootout down the Spanish Steps. We shot up the Vatican, blew up a hotel, blew up an airport, waged war against mercenaries, the Swiss Guard, killer priests, a dozen nations, have some fun with the UN, the World Court, and everything short of killer robots.



Oh, yeah, I have a love story in there too.



Don't look at me like that. I wasn't going to fill every page with shootouts, chase scenes, and explosions. None of my characters remotely resemble Bruce Willis. They all have hair, for one. Nor are they some sort of bloodless, passionless plot device—none of them look like Tom Hanks.



As strange as it might seem, I am a romantic at heart. That said, if someone hands me something that even has a mild tinge of a romance novel, it better have a fantastic, original plot, or I will smack that someone with the novel. And possibly make them eat it.



I am uncomfortable and suspicious of any book that has a hero and heroine fall in love inside of one book. It has to be done well, or take place over a good period of time. That said, there are circumstances I can believe. It's common knowledge that high stress situations can lead to intense emotional bonding. In Stockholm syndrome, it happens over the course of hours, if not days. And that takes place between terrorists and their hostages. It shouldn't be too unreasonable that it should happen between two allies.



I had one character I had designed previously—Scott “Mossad” Murphy, first member of the Goyim brigade of Israeli Intelligence. I wanted his attention dragged to Rome from a tip by a German intelligence officer.



Designing this German was easy—I wanted the exact opposite of Murphy. Scott Murphy, the perfect spy, was short-ish, pale, with almost no distinguishing features. Slap on some makeup, he's whatever he wants to be. Therefore, physically she had to be beautiful. All eyes could be on her while he slipped into the background.



But how do I create a woman who was believably beautiful without turning her into something out of a fantasy novel? Simple—I use the physical features of someone I know. And what do you know, the previous year, I had someone who had to match that description perfectly. Her name was Manana Kull.



Enter Manana “Mani” Shushurin of German intelligence... she was raised in East Germany, hence the last name.



Murphy could blend in and disappear. However, when I made him, he had a disdain for weapons. He was spy—he was not Jason Bourne, he was not James Bond, though he could pass for George Smiley. He didn't do weapons. If he needed a weapon, he wasn't doing his job.



Therefore, Shushurin had to be the expert in weapons and hand-to-hand combat.



I would bear no idiots in my books, so they were both smart, capable professionals, with complimentary skill sets and equal intelligence.



And somewhere along the line, two people who existed in a very lonely profession wound up falling in love in the middle of my thriller. Obviously, they weren't busy enough getting shot at. They were too good at keeping their heads down.



Ironically, this was part of the story I hadn't planned. The characters did it themselves.



Yes, for those of you who are wondering, writing fiction has been described as a form of schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder—usually by the authors themselves. Then again, when you generate an entire character biography in your head, have to decide what is perfectly in character for them to do at any given moment, make their reactions consistent... having another person in your head is the easiest way to put it.



Thankfully, I managed to tie the romance subplot into the overall story fairly easily. It even became critical to the book. How can two people falling in love save the world?



Well, you'll have to read the book to find that out.

Hey, it worked for Terry Goodkind.