An Interview with Michael Niemann, author of No Right Way

Michael Niemann grew up in a small town in western Germany before moving to the United States. He received a PhD in International Studies from the University of Denver.

For over three decades, Michael has been a teacher of international studies focusing on the ways in which ordinary people’s lives and global processes intersect. In addition to teaching and academic writing, Michael has pursued these interests through fiction writing in his series of thrillers featuring UN investigator Valentin Vermeulen, published by Coffeetown Press.

Legitimate Business and Illicit Trade were published in 2017. Illegal Holdings came out in March 2018. The fourth Vermeulen thriller No Right Way has just been released. His short stories have appeared in Vengeance, the 2012 Mystery Writers of America anthology edited by Lee Child and as Kindle singles.

Ed Battistella: I really enjoyed reading No Right Way. Can you tell folks a bit about Valentin Vermeulen’s latest adventure?

Michael Niemann: People had been fleeing the Syrian civil war that started in 2011 all along, but after the rise of ISIS (or Daesh as it’s called in Arabic), the fighting became so widespread that the flow turned into tidal wave in 2015. That wave of refugees caught the world unawares. The UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the Turkish government had to scramble to deliver even a modicum of aid. They appealed for support from around the world, both in financial form and in asking places to resettle the refugees. In such desperate situation, money is often spend quickly to address the mounting needs. That means the usual safeguards, like competitive bids for services, etc., are often ignored because the need is to great. Unfortunately, human suffering and the efforts to ameliorate it also attracts all kinds of crooks hoping to cash in. So that’s the basic premise of the novel. Vermeulen is there to make sure no fraud is happening, but, of course, he finds it.

EB: How did you come up with or find the idea of the cash card and van rental scams? Are these based in real criminal activity?

MN: The smuggling of gasoline from ISIS controlled refineries to Turkey was know at the time. That’s how ISIS financed its weapons. The normal smuggling MO was shuttling jerry cans, stacked in vans across the border between Turkey and Syria. That border was rather porous, so it was easy to drive across. After NATO and others complained about the overt smuggling, ISIS even buried pipes under the border so that the vans didn’t have to leave Turkey. It didn’t take much research to tell that story.

The cash card scam was a little more complex. One of the developments in the aid sector is to move away from delivering food to refugee camps and use pre-paid cash or ATM cards instead. The logic is sound, it give refugees agency in choosing what to eat, rather than having to eat, say, surplus cheese from the EU or the US. It also supports local economies. Dumping a lot of free food in an area causes havoc with the local economy. Local shops and farmers are put out of business. So in most cases, giving refugees cash cards is a really good strategy. That doesn’t work well in very poor countries that don’t have the technical infrastructure for cashless payments, but Turkey has it.

However, issuing the cards involves multiple contractors and banks, and I asked myself, “What if one of those contractors was a front for the mafia?” Most crime writers ask themselves such “what if” questions to come up with a plot.

EB: The title is a departure for you—from the Legitimate Business, Illicit Trade, Illegal Holdings group. I understand that this one is based on a Turkish proverb: there’s no right way to do a wrong thing. Can you elaborate?

MN: I’m very bad with titles. I avoid finding one as long as I can. I usually get to the end of the novel and still don’t have a title. I then comb the manuscript for a pithy phrase that I could use. Yes, the first three novels had two-word titles. But that was getting a little worn. Since I had an old mafia boss, I did research on Turkish proverbs. That was my strategy to make him a little more relatable. He did use the one you cite as he complains about how his niece has run an operation. I just thought the first part had a good ring to it.

EB: What’s the most difficult aspect of writing a thriller? Pace, characterization, plot? I was really impressed with the way No Right Way kept things moving.

MN: Well, the pat answer is, “All of the above.” I think pace is important. To paraphrase Ian Fleming, you got to get the reader to turn the page. Pace is one way to achieve that. But pace alone gets boring. There was a funny cartoon in the paper where the editor tells the author (a dog), “Sure, it’s exciting, but you can’t have a chase scene on every page.”

The plot has to be plausible. I think that’s key. The reader has to believe that it could have happened. That’s where a lot of my research happens. One of the side effects has been that I know a lot about money laundering.

In the end, though, it’s the characters that make the reader care. They have to be as three dimensional as possible. I’ve gotten better at that. A good rule of thumb is Kurt Vonnegut’s maxim that every character has to want something, “even if it’s only a glass of water.”

EB: Vermeulen is a wonderful character. Tough and competent, but no James Bond or Jack Reacher. You’ve got some interesting female characters in the novel—aside from, I thought and of course Vermeulen’s daughter. Is writing strong female characters something you’ve worked on? I notice this in your last Vermeulen book as well.

MN: Yes, I’ve consciously worked on that. There’s a bad tradition in crime fiction that relegates women to be either the “dead girl,” the prostitute, rough but with a heart of gold, the mousy secretary who secretly loves the hero, and so on. I couldn’t write such characters. The women in Illegal Holdings, for example, were inspired by all the women who ran human rights organizations in southern Africa. I met them doing academic research in the region. Vermeulen’s daughter (about which we learn a lot more in the fifth novel) is still young but very competent in her job at a logistics company. She’s always part of Vermeulen’s team, as is his partner/lover Tessa. In No Right Way I chose to create a female character who’s just as strong willed, but on the other side of the law. Yesim Yaser wants to represent a new generation of leadership in the Turkish mafia. It was fun creating her.

EB: I was intrigued by the Inspector Demirel character. Can you talk more about him?

MN: He began as an afterthought, I needed a police officer of higher rank. Demirel just emerged without a lot of planning. One of the problems of setting stories in foreign places is the language barrier. Vermeulen speaks Dutch, French, English and bits of other western European languages. He doesn’t speak Turkish. To overcome this and avoid the tedious translating, I had Demirel study at Boston University. To make him more three-dimensional I also gave him a Kurdish background which makes him somewhat of an outsider. At the same time, he resents outsider know-it-alls. So he’s got a bit of national pride that is tempered by his one ambivalent status. He and Vermeulen spend a great night drinking Raki.

EB: I know you are a fan of noir. Would you consider your Vermeulen series noir?

MN: No, it’s not noir. If we use Tim Wohlforth’s definition of noir—things start out bad and only get worse—my novels don’t qualify. For one, Vermeulen isn’t some tragic character. Yes, he’s had his ups and downs, but he doesn’t drown his sorrows in whisky. My endings also aren’t worse than where the novel started. They aren’t necessarily happy endings. I think I distinguish between personal and systemic endings. On the personal level issues do get resolved, but on the system level they aren’t necessarily. So that might me more gris then noir.

EB: What else are you working on? A fifth Vermeulen thriller, I hope.

MN: Yes, I’ve finished the manuscript for the fifth Vermeulen thriller. For once, it doesn’t involve the UN or far away places. Vermeulen is called back to Antwerp where he learns that the past indeed isn’t dead and not past either. The story weaves together two mysteries, one in 2002 and one in the present.

My publisher didn’t like some of the things I’d tried to do, but fixing them turned out easier than I thought at first. I’m about to send it off again and hope that I’ve addressed those concerns.

EB: Thanks for talking with me. Good luck with the book.

Posted in Interviews | Comments Off on An Interview with Michael Niemann, author of No Right Way

Commencement BINGO

Posted in Ideas and Opinions | Comments Off on Commencement BINGO

An Interview with John Yunker, author of Where the Oceans Hide Their Dead

John Yunker is a writer of plays, short stories and novels focused on human/animal relationships. He is author of the novels The Tourist Trail and the sequel Where Oceans Hide Their Dead. He is also editor of the anthologies Writing for Animals and Among Animals.

His full-length play Meat the Parents was a finalist at the Centre Stage New Play Festival (South Carolina) and semi-finalist in the AACT new play contest. Species of Least Concern was a finalist in the 2016 Mountain Playhouse Comedy Festival. His short play, Little Red House, was published in the literary journal Mason’s Road, and produced by the Studio Players Theatre in Lexington, Kentucky.

His short stories have been published by literary journals such as Phoebe, Qu, Flyway, and Antennae.

Yunker is also the co-founder of Ashland Creek Press, a publisher devoted to environmental and animal rights literature. He also has a passion for languages and for helping organizations develop better multilingual websites. You can find more of his work at JohnYunker.com

Ed Battistella: I enjoyed Where the Oceans Hide Their Dead. What prompted you to revisit the characters from The Tourist Trail.

John Yunker: I had a sense while writing The Tourist Trail that there was a bigger story to be told. And I too wanted to know what happened to Robert when he stepped off the plane in Namibia.

EB: One of the things that impressed me was the characterization and dialogue. You seemed to do a lot with a small ensemble of well-developed characters. I’m wondering how your work as a playwright influences your characterizations and your novelistic writing generally.

JY: I find that a character is “working” when you can hear him or her in your head and you become, in effect, the stenographer. This applies to playwriting as well. Of course, the trouble with having these characters talking inside your head is that they don’t always keep their mouths shut, which is another reason why there is a book two.

EB: The structure of the book, following three characters in different situations, was an interesting choice but it also required a sharp eye for details. How did you research the many convincing details, about seal hunting, espionage, chicken farming and more?

JY: Great question. Research, research and more research. Which includes everything from Wikipedia to Google Maps to following specific animal activists and court cases, as well as scientific journals and random news articles. I’d say the first few years of this book were more research and reading than writing. I’ve studied a number of well-documented cases of the FBI and animal activists, as well as trials. And I’ve gotten to know a few of the people who were imprisoned along the way; a few are still in prison as I write this.

EB: Are animal right groups routinely targeted as terrorist or tracked by private security? Where the Oceans Hide Their Dead painted a complex, fraught picture of activism.

JY: The FBI has targeted animal rights groups for decades now, but the risks for activists have become acute over the past decade. In 2006, the government passed the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act, which effectively allowed the government to label anyone who simply disrupted the activities of a slaughterhouse or animal testing laboratory as a terrorist. In addition, many states now have “ag-gag” laws that have made it a crime to take photographs or videos within slaughterhouses or on ranches or farms – even if you’re taking a photograph from the side of the road. In addition to the FBI, corporations hire private firms to monitor and (in some cases) infiltrate these groups. And it’s not just animal rights but the health of the planet that is at stake. Being from St. Louis, I grew up not very far from Monsanto (which inspired a portion of the book). Most people don’t know that Monsanto once founded its own private town along the banks of the Mississippi specifically so it could avoid all regulation and freely do whatever it wanted with its chemical waste. The town is now called Sauget, and it includes a superfund site. But growing up there, I didn’t know any of this. I knew only that Monsanto was a very large company and that it had very tight security. I now know a great deal more about the company, as do a growing number of Americans.

EB: Have you got plans for a third book featuring Robert Porter and company?

JY: I do. Hopefully book three won’t take as long as book two, though I make no predictions.

EB: I was pleased to see Ashland and even SOU mentioned. Do you have connections with some of the other places you wrote about in the book?

JY: It’s difficult to keep my real life from seeping into my fictional life, so, yes, many of the locations are places I have a connection with. But not all. For instance, I’ve never been to Namibia and can only hope I did a decent job of portraying that region of the world; I hope to get there one day. Sadly, the seal slaughter along the shores of Namibia is all too true and still happening today. I did get to know, virtually, a man who rescued the stray seals who washed ashore in South Africa. The thing about people who devote their lives to rescuing animals – it can be such a heartbreaking and lonely life. This book, as well as the first, is my attempt to tell their stories.

EB: Thanks for talking with us!

JY: Thank you, Ed, for including me!

Posted in Ideas and Opinions, Interviews | Comments Off on An Interview with John Yunker, author of Where the Oceans Hide Their Dead

An Interview with Abbigail N. Rosewood, author of If I Had Two Lives

Abbigail N. Rosewood was born in Vietnam, where she lived until the age of twelve. In 2012, she was the recipient of the Michael Baughman Fiction Award and the Outstanding Graduating Student in Creative Writing Award from Southern Oregon University. Her works have published in such literary journals as The Adirondack Review, Columbia Journal, Green Hills Literary Lantern, and The Missing Slate.

Abbigail Rosewood has a Master of Fine Arts in Fiction from Columbia University and an excerpt from her first novel, If I Had Two Lives, was awarded First Place in the Writers’ Workshop of Asheville Literary Fiction contest. If I Had Two Lives was released by Europa Editions this April.

James Cañón, author of Tales from the Town of Widows, calls If I Had Two Lives “the perfect novel of dislocation.” Gary Shteyngart, author of Super Sad True Love Story and Little Failure says it is “A harrowing, wondrously constructed story of childhood and a brilliant meditation on how life is lived today.”

Abbigail Rosewood currently lives and writes in New York. You can follow her at abbigailrosewood.com

Ed Battistella: Congratulations on the publication of If I Had Two Lives, which I really enjoyed. It’s a great read and a great accomplishment.

Abbigail N. Rosewood: Thank you for reading! It has been a pleasant surprise to receive so much support from friends and strangers, but it means a lot coming from you who taught me at SOU. I don’t know what it feels like for you reading your student’s work, but for me it is absolutely thrilling to be read by my professor—the ultimate A plus.

EB: It felt to me to be a novel about longing and wanting people to be what we needed them to be. Is that part of the immigrant experience do you think?

AR: Loneliness is a universal human condition and for those who migrate, it is both the prerequisite and outcome. It is impossible to be ripped off from your roots and not feel intensely isolated. Within an isolation chamber, memories resound much louder and manifest themselves again and again as the immigrant attempts to digest the pain of being psychically fractured—being between cultures, languages, memories, and between truths as well.

Yet I don’t think this is unique to the immigrant experience. All the time people gravitate towards familiarity, echoes of their childhood. Familiarity becomes a guiding post on who to love, what to eat, and unfairly who to hate and fear as well. In my novel, the narrator’s longing is so profound that she superimposes her memories onto people that are perhaps not genuinely anything like those from her childhood. Parts of her evolution is coming to the realization that she has failed to really see the person she claims to love for who they are.

EB: Can you tell us about the title? There is a nice reveal at the end but all through the book I was playing with different understandings of that. I wondered if you were intentionally giving the readers different ways to see that in some of the pairings of the characters.

AR: I’m curious to hear what you make of the title! I do hope for readers to get a multilayered understanding of the title. When someone says, “If I had two lives, I would…,” it sounds like the beginning of a wish, yet juggling two lives is a reality for many people. It is a gift to be both and neither, but it comes at an enormous cost.

Looking back, it is hard to pin point my intentions, but when writing I’m always asking questions. Narrative gives me the opportunity to create situations that are nuanced, emotionally and morally ambiguous, which can be demanding of readers. Art doesn’t offer neat conclusions: it can move, irritate, and even anger. It is my hope that readers can juggle the questions and hold all these contradictions in mind.

EB: If I Had Two Lives is story-driven, but from time to time you allow the protagonist some room to philosophize and reflect. What’s the key to adding that sort of depth without taking away from the narrative. Were you conscious of the moments when you had the main character meditate on life or did those moments just happen? Was she taking over?

AR: There are many successful literary works I admire that is only telling or showing. I try to balance both. In If I Had Two Lives, the protagonist’s way of expressing her feelings is often understated, which is essential to her character. Subtlety doesn’t work for everyone—I encountered a good amount of resistance from editors when my agent was trying to sell the book. Still, it is my firm belief that nothing can ever be subtle enough. Occasionally, however, it is useful to be exact, to give readers emotional anchors or affirmations of what they already know.

EB: I enjoyed the writing and pace, and these was one matter of craft I especially wanted to ask you about: in the first part of the book you make a point of not using names—there is “the little girl,” “my mother,” and “my soldier,” and even the protagonist is nameless throughout. Can you talk about the namelessness?

AR: As soon as something is named it loses ambiguity, which to me is a great loss. It feels honest that my central characters should not be easily pinned down or defined, especially the protagonist because she suffers profoundly from the psychic ruptures of being in-between. I myself have a complicated relationship with names. I would love to live namelessly or go by a name that is cleansed of all assumptions like iLP78&R, but it is simply impractical. I suppose this might be one difference between life and fiction, the novel can afford some impracticalities in service of a higher truth.

EB: Was one of the lives easier to tell than the other? I liked the way you brought the lives together at the end.

AR: Thank you. It is hard to give any life the intricacies that it deserves. In that sense I am aware that like most novels, this one too is a failure. I started writing it when I was twenty-five, finished it at twenty-six, and published it at twenty-nine. A month before publication, I had one last chance to edit minor details. Because it has been a few year since I read it, I had enough distance to see how flawed it was, how full of naiveties. At some point, in order to publish, all writers have to contend with this reality—their ego—the arrogant idea that a work could be perfected. I think, art, if it were to really live, it must do so with errors, loose ends.

EB: What was the process of writing the novel like for you? Did much change from the earliest versions?

AR: It was the absolute best part of the whole thing. There is nothing more sublime than to surrender to the work to be congruent with aesthetic values, which I’m afraid to say, I put above all others. There are eight “drafts,” of the novel, although the original writing from the first draft has not changed, only shifted. Moments are expanded so that the work grows in volume. The novel happens to be my chosen medium so there are certain requirements to fulfill, one of which is length, but the emotional core can be expressed with a song, a brushstroke, a knife fight. I have great respect for poets for this reason, their ability to move worlds with a few syllables.

EB: Perhaps this is an unfair question but how much of the story is autobiographical? Or is the novel all fiction?

AR: A visual artist I know incorporates in her mixed-media paintings objects from her personal life like a piece of her son’s blanket from when he was a baby. My work is autobiographical in the sense that it is blanketed with emotional truths and emblemed with personal “objects”. My writing will always be honest in this way and autobiographical even if I were writing about dragons.

EB: What other current writing projects have you got happening?

AR: I have a second novel, which is still looking for a home.

EB: Thanks for talking with us. Good luck with If I Had Two Lives.

AR: Thank you so much, Ed, for the enlightening questions.

Posted in Interviews, Language | Comments Off on An Interview with Abbigail N. Rosewood, author of If I Had Two Lives