The Books That Made Me - Part 1

Jupiter, Pete & Bob. My best friends in childhood.

By Derek Farrell

I had an exchange of views on Twitter last week. No, not one of those I-can-scream-louder-than-you, or My-outrage-is-better-than-your-outrage exchanges so popular on that Hellsite. This one was about a particular series of books and why they -The Three Investigator Novels – were the most successful gateway drug in history. And finding out I was not alone in my love for these books, or in  my firm belief that they made me a better person and helped create the writer I am today made me very happy.

And since I figure there aint enough happy or simple joy in the world these days, please forgive me a thousand words or so of complete Stanning...

I was a quiet kid, with an obsession for books of all kinds.

I loved the anthropomorphic cats and bears in Richard Scarry’s works, read the Famous Five books, enjoyed The Hard Boys and Nancy Drew, and then something amazing happened:

My Dad bought me one of the Three Investigators books. It was The Mystery of The Laughing Shadow (Book 12 in the series).

My dad and I loved Alfred Hitchcock movies, and the books – in an early approach to celebrity endorsement / branding – were introduced by the Auteur, who often featured as a character in them. By the time I was introduced to Jupiter Pete and Bob, the series had already been running for 13 years, having commenced in 1964 when Robert Arthur – who had previously edited several short story collections attributed to Alfred Hitchcock – sold the idea of a series of teenage mysteries to Random House.

Over time, other writers had contributed to the series, principally William Arden (who wrote The Laughing Shadow amongst others), Nick West, and Mary Virginia (MV) Carey, who wrote many of my personal favourites.

The head investigator, Jupiter Jones, lived with his Aunt and Uncle in a vast salvage yard, and had built – amongst the scrap and salvage – an operations centre with hidden entrances; a true boy’s den. The boys, too young to drive, were driven around – thanks to a competition win – in a chauffeur driven limo, while the animosity between the boys and their sworn enemy, the perma-cocky Skinny Norris, whose bullying attempts to spoil their plans felt, so often, like a replay of my daily life, resonated with me.

But unlike my life, the boys got to hang out with Alfred Hitchcock; they seemed, permanently, to be on some extended school vacation; and they lived in Southern California.

Many of the normal mundanities of life – school, homework, the general depressions of a childhood in 1980s Dublin – could simply cease to exist for as long as my nose was buried in a Three Investigator book.

I stopped buying them in 1986 when I moved to London and began working. I guess I figured I was grown up now, and it was time, as they say “To put aside childish things.”

But some years later, on a visit back to Dublin, I packed my entire collection into a suitcase and brought them back to London with me, their presence in my flat symbolising the fact that I had settled, that where I was – now that The Three Investigators were there with me – was finally home.

The investigators are lead by Jupiter Jones, a chubby, smart mouthed intelligent kid, who is a former child actor named "Baby Fatso” (although he hates it when people mention this). Jupiter is a prolific reader, often rubs his peers up the wrong way and is driven by his own morality and belief in the power of logic and creative thinking (So: not much psychology required there to figure out why I fell for this series).

Jupiter was joined by Pete Crenshaw, the athletic leg of the trio, more likely to be the one who tackled the escaping criminal to the ground, though Pete was never drawn as being pure brawn without brains; he was as capable of challenging assumptions and of suggesting possible motives or viewpoints as the lead investigator.

Bob Andrews made up the trio. The researcher, who – in pre-Google days – would scour newspaper morgues, school libraries, and interview witnesses face to face, produced, often, the killer clue that Jupiter and Pete would then extrapolate into a solution to the mystery. Bob did all of this, in the early books, while wearing a leg brace to heal multiple leg fractures, thus – in late 60s / early 70s fiction – presenting a differently abled person as a positive independent and equal contributor to the endeavour, and doing so in a way which never felt shoehorned in.

In fact, the boys also faced off against menaces which, whilst entirely present in much of today’s YA market, were definitely unique at the time.

I can barely imagine any of Enid Blyton’s detective gangs facing down someone trying to swindle a Mexican family out of their ranch purely because of their race, let alone the Secret Seven dealing with obsession or the supernatural (Whispering Mummy), and in “The mystery of The Magic Circle,” Carey dealt with the sad isolation of faded Hollywood Fame in the same stark fashion as ‘Sunset Boulevard.’

The books were written by the various authors in a style that could be described as Pulp-Lite. The story started almost on the first page (if not the first line), the writing was snappy and direct. There were outlandish titles (“The Secret of Skeleton Island,” “The Mystery of The Moaning Cave,” “The Mystery of The Headless Horse” to name a few) designed to pull the readers in, and reveals that – at the end of the book – made absolutely perfect sense in light of what had been planted through the plot up to that point.

Chapters ended, mostly, on cliffhangers, and the danger was real. In “The Magic Circle,” for example, Bob is bashed on the head, knocked unconscious, dumped in the trunk of a car in the middle of a scrap yard in Southern California, and left to die of heat stroke. Beat that, Hardy Boys.

And now I write books. Mystery books. Books peopled with characters who run the gamut from loveable to quirky to monstrous, and who are all (or mostly) comfortable in their own skins.

I owe Robert Arthur and MV Carey particularly a great debt, and one I hadn’t fully realised until recently.

The books have been somewhat bogged down in legal wrangles in recent years, but I still firmly believe they have a place in the pantheon of great often overlooked crime writing and can’t imagine my life – as a kid, as an adult, or as a writer of crime fiction that entertains and celebrates life in all it’s difference – without The Three Investigators.

So: What are the books that made you? Which childhood favourite has stayed with you til today, and which parent, relative, librarian teacher turned you on to the sheer joy of a brilliant story well told? I'd love to know.

A small selection of my most treasured posessions.

(Portions of this post originally appeared on the http://grabthisbook.net/ blog

Who's My Audience?

by Holly West

Recently, I became involved in a conversation about book awards on Twitter in response to this article written by the fabulous E.A. Aymar for ITW's THE THRILL BEGINS. The gist of this exchange was that there is a significant difference between juried awards like the Edgars and peer-decided awards like the Anthonys, which are, in the minds of some, just popularity contests. And that we, as authors should be clear and honest about the differences.

Note: The Edgars are also judged by our peers, but the process is much more rigorous, involving committees and consensus among the members of said committees. Having never been part of that process, I can't comment further, except to say that I respect it. Ed's article gives information on how the ITW awards are determined, which I assume is similar to the way the Edgars are.

Starting early in the year, you might see your author friends campaigning for various awards. You might've even seen me campaigning. Or as I prefer to call it--reminding. Nothing wrong with reminding people who've read my work of its eligibility in a given year and I appreciate it when other authors remind me of their eligibility. If I've read and enjoyed their work, I'm happy to nominate them, but I don't always keep track of what was published when so a little nudge is helpful.

Such campaigning, however, made one of the conversation's participant ask who the writers were trying to connect with--readers or their writing peers.

For the record, I've been nominated twice--once for the Left Coast Crime award for Best First Novel (MISTRESS OF FORTUNE) and once for the Anthony for Best Short Story. Those nominations meant the world to me, they really did. You can call it a popularity contest if you want, but being recognized by my peers felt really great. And after the LCC nomination, I saw a small but definite uptick in sales. Given my low sales numbers in general, that was significant to me.

And to be clear, these awards aren't just nominated and voted on by other authors. Fans (those who've attended or are registered to attend a given conference) are also eligible to nominate and vote.

But as the title of this post suggests, this little twitter conversation resulted in a different quandary for me: who, exactly, is my audience? The truth is that at this point in my career, my writer friends are my main audience. I don't mean that I'm writing solely for them or that they've been supportive (though they have been), I literally mean that they represent the majority of those who've purchased my books. For a variety of reasons, the books I've written so far have not yet managed to find an audience much broader than those who know me, and a great many of those people are authors themselves.

The point I'm trying to make is this: Maybe some day my books will reach a larger audience, but that doesn't mean I'm not proud of the one I already have. And if that means I'm sometimes honored with award nominations, damn it, I'm even prouder. Yes, I understand that there are inherent problems with the way these awards are given out, but that's not a judgment on the quality of the material itself. And quite often, you'll see the same titles on multiple shortlists, including the Edgars.

Maybe the moral of the story is not to place too much importance on awards in general, although, I ain't gonna lie, I want an Edgar someday. One thing's for sure, I'm not going to get one by writing blog posts (or engaging in Twitter conversations) complaining about or dissecting award processes. Neither will you. So get out there and write, my friends. Hustle, too.

Socially Inept

By Holly West

This past Monday morning I decided to take my first ever social media break. As I'm writing this, it's Tuesday morning and by the time you read this it will be Wednesday. Hopefully, I'll still be on the wagon. My goal is two full weeks away from it.

That's two weeks without checking or posting on any social media websites. I've kind of made Pinterest the exception, but only because I don't check it regularly in the first place and it's filled with pretty pictures of food and interior design and homemade lotion recipes. It doesn't give me panic attacks and feels like a sort of refuge from all the things that cause me stress.

Though this is my first actual break from social media, it's not the first time I've contemplated taking one. I'm an unabashed fan of it--particularly Twitter and Facebook. In fact, if it weren't for social media, I probably wouldn't be published. But with the good comes the bad and I've become increasingly addicted to social media over the years. I'll be writing and the moment my mind wanders, I check Facebook. This happens constantly throughout the day, making it difficult to get anything substantive done. I've known for awhile that I need to break that habit, and this seems like a good time to do it.

The truth is that my social media feeds have become anxiety inducing. They're overwhelmingly about books, selling said books, writing, and of course, selling said writing. It's not the books and the writing that are the problem, it's the selling, and the anxiety that comes with it, that's got me a bit down. It's gotten to the point where I find myself scrolling down my Facebook feed thinking "shut up, shut up, shut up."

I know! It's terrible, isn't it? I feel bad even writing that last sentence. I mean no offense. It's not you, it's me. I'm sick of myself, I'm sick of selling my book, and I'm sick of worrying about the writing of my next book and then having to sell that.

That doesn't mean I'm taking a break from writing that next book, of course. It just means that I feel the need to step back from all the noise and write in relative solitude for awhile. Does that make sense?

Ironically, my last reason for taking a social media break comes from the need for me to explore other options for selling my books. With the second in the series coming out in the Fall, I know there are some things I missed when the first came out. Though I've amassed a nice following via social media, they are mostly personal friends and family. My wider circle is the crime fiction community and other writers. I recently realized that I haven't made a big enough effort to find other readers outside of these circles. For example, my series is historical fiction and yet I have no platform whatsoever in the historical fiction community. This needs to be remedied (even if I'm unsure, exactly, how to do it). Social media will, of course, become a big part of this expansion, but for now I'm going to explore some online forums, participate in listserv and that sort of thing.

So yeah. I'm taking a social media break because I'm sick of selling my book but ultimately, I need some time to explore other avenues to sell my book and my addiction to social media prevents me from taking that time.

But as always, the writing is the thing. If something is taking me away from it, whether mentally or physically, then I need to take steps to get back to it. No excuses, no whining. I'm working on that last part.

By the way, if any of you reading this could share it on Twitter or Facebook, I'd appreciate it. KTHX.

We Are All Whiners

This blog post does not represent the opinion of anyone else on Do Some Damage but Dave White.

Shut up.

We--the writers and fans of books--all need to shut up. Big time.

Lately, there's been discussion about self-promotion on Twitter, Amazon boards, Facebook. Basically it comes down to this. Book writers are promoting their books on Twitter. Posting "I have a book out. Buy it! Here's a link." Apparently, it's constant*. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.

Then came the next wave. All the fans of writers have now revolted and started complaining about self-promotion. Immediate unfollowing of self-promoters. Creating arbitrary rules about promotion. "You can only do it once a week." "Five, ten, fifteen percent of time should be self-promotion." Wahh, wahhh, wahhh**.

Shut up.

First off, fans of writing... you have to understand something. Writers need to be noticed. There's a lot of noise out there and they want you to know the name of their book. Wouldn't you be upset if a writer you loved came out with a book and you never heard about it? All writers have fans. Some have a lot of fans. Some have 2 fans***. The only way their fans are going to notice them is if they mention their book. And you know what? Not everyone is always on Twitter at the same time. So sometimes these writers have to post about it more than once! So, if you're a fan of writer and of writers, give people a break okay. Especially if their book has only been out a month or two.

Okay, now writers. Yeah, you guys. Over here. Listen up. You need to chill out a little bit. Talk to people. Come up with conversation. And also, be creative. Let's not shout it all out all the time and then whine when people complain. You're a writer. Creativity is your life. You have to come up with a way to get noticed that's different from the ways everyone else gets noticed. And I'm not talking contests. Everyone does contests. No one who enters a contest ever buys the product their in the contest for. They want free stuff. If they don't get the free stuff, they'll go try to get other free stuff. I don't know what the real answer is. But you need to lay-off the shouting a little bit. I'm not going to come up with some random arbitrary rule for you****, you need to find your comfort zone. But maybe ease off the gas a little bit.

(Or, how about this. Everyone on Twitter picks a different author to promote. If we all promote each other, it's not self-promotion. Then what? Oh, snap!)

See the problem isn't self-promotion... or complaining about self-promotion. Not really. It's about society. The society we live in. The society of protests.

You see, in real life, protesters are doing something good. They're protesting BIG ISSUES. And they're trying to make real change. Look at the Wisconsin Unions, or Egypt, or the Tea Party, or Occupy Wall Street. They've all created real change over big issues.

Us?

We're complaining about .... commercials. Sorry, but commercials are a way of life. You're always going to have them. And some of them are pretty damn annoying. But we've always been able to ignore them. And then the people who make the commercials have to try a different tact. When all we do is complain... complain about the little things...it takes away the power of complaining about the big things. About fighting against something.

But we see all these protests, and we need something to whine about so we take up this issue. OOOHHHHH, there's too much on my Twitter feed. OOOHHHHHH, no one's buying my book.

Gimme a break. All of us. We all need to take a breather. We allllllll--even me--should shut up.

Everyone needs to take a deep breath and just chill out. Yes, I know Freedom of Speech is a right. But by both clogging up Twitter with self-promotional commercials**** and complaining about those commercials, you are trying to prohibit free speech. Complainers want to shut people up, self-promos want Twitter to be nothing more than a commercial.

So, let's ease off. Everyone. Be positive. Have fun. Because you know what? Discussion on Twitter never lead us to real change in publishing. Their circular conversations, ones that end up in the same place****** and never solve anything.

So, let's all take a deep breath and stop the freaking whining*******.

*My Twitter feed did have some advertising in it, but I wouldn't say it was constant. And I follow a lot writers.

**I actually saw a lot more of this than I did the actual self-promotion because it got retweeted a lot. And people didn't just post it, they went on ten tweet rants about it.

***Hi mom! Hi dad!

****Unlike those people on the Amazon message boards. Whoa are they crazy. Anyone tries to do something nice for a writer and they flip the f out. And then high five when the writer slinks away, trying to be nice.

*****Funny. When the promotion comes from a publisher, I NEVER see anyone complain about it. There are never "Boyyyy, Little Brown tweets about their books too much."

******Yes, I understand the irony of me posting about this. But I wanted to say it in more than 140 characters. Then I'll shut up. Plus, I like reading comments.

*******Look at all these footnotes. I hate footnotes. I should stop the footnotes. BLEEECCCHHH. I wrote a whole blog post complaining about footnotes once. Ask Russel. But now...it's a truce. I won't complain about them.

Have Some Fun With It

I've noticed a little trend with Twitter.

Okay, it's a big trend.

Well, it's like a tidal wave of trends without a hashtag for said trend.

Wellll, let's hashtag it anyway. #hashtaglesswritertrend

It's the fact that people with books out do one of two things... they either over post the link to that Kindle, Amazon, Indiebound, Borders (okay, not Borders... really... have you been reading the news? I tried to slip that one by you), or Barnes and Noble site that has their book on it. "BUUUYYYY my book," they say. "Come on, people, let's sell some books today."

And it's all they do.

Then there's this guy... the "I'm not going to do that guy." The passive aggresive, my book is out today, I'm going to post a link to it and then pretend like I never did and not really care if anyone buys it even though I care more than you know. I'll retweet every mention of me and hope it catches on that way.

(I'm a little of both of these people on Twitter, btw, I am not innocent in all of this. Well, I'm kind of innocent. All right, I'm just a plain hypocrite... I do these things all the time).

But I'm here to say something... It's time we have a little fun being an author. It's time to stop taking ourselves so seriously and remember that "HOLY CRAP, I HAVE A FUCKING BOOK OUT THERE!"

Be excited. It's okay. Something good happens to you, shout it from the rooftops. Tell people, hire a skywriter and let your town know about it. Be excited. I don't know about you, but if someone out there isn't excited about their own book, then guess what? Neither am I.

Don't be too cool for school about this. Let your freak flag fly.

At the same time, you don't have to be all self-promo all the time. It can't just be a link to your book. It has to be a link to good reviews. A quote from an email you got from a fan.

Sell your movie rights? Tell us!

Listen. You're human. Writing a book and getting it published is a big deal. Fans understand this. We've been beaten down by too many people telling us selling ourselves is a BAD thing. It's not. Not if you do it right.

Have fun with it. Celebrate your good stuff.

BE EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!ZOMG!!!!!!!!!

Let me tell you a story:

I was in Boston seeing a concert right around the time my 2nd book came out. As my buddy and I were grabbing a beer, a woman stopped me. In Boston. At a concert. And she said, "I'm sorry, are you Dave White?"

I said, "Yes."

She said, "Your book rocked."

She wasn't star struck. I was. I made her take a picture with me. I got all... giggly. I was excited. I texted my friends and family. I know I blogged about it. Not sure if I had Twitter then, but if I did... I definitely tweeted it.

IT WAS A BIG DEAL.

And that's okay.

You want to shout about the big deals, we're all going to be happy for you. Have fun. It's a book. If you're reading this site, it's like a mystery book.

But don't be boring. Don't tweet links, and don't try to downplay it. Act like you KNOW you have something special on your hands.

Because, you know what? You do.

So, show us.

Shout--USE CAPITAL LETTERS--your good news in the comments below.

All a-Twitter

by
Scott D. Parker

I started tweeting this week. I’ve had my Twitter account for a while, but found little use in it until now. Ironically, this 21st Century technology is being used to promote stories about the 19th. Western Fictioneers have a new anthology out and I’ve got a story in it. In group discussions, we were figuring out the best ways to promote the new book and Twitter naturally came up. I logged back in and muddled around.

Dang, if it isn’t pretty informative. And fun.

My only problem is the character limitation. 140? Heck, I have introductory clauses that run longer than that.

Anyway, it’s quite easy to see the power of Twitter. Some of the power comes in the form of general information. I follow Nathan Fillion (of Castle and Firefly fame) and he tweets and retweets. One of his messages was from Molly Quinn, the actress who plays his daughter on Castle. She linked to a YouTube collection of videos from the Castle panel at Comic-con last week. For someone like me who didn’t have a chance to go, it was nice to see and hear all the discussion from the panelists and the audience.

The thing is I could have searched for it daily until it popped up online. But, via Twitter and following folks/stars/authors whose work I like, the information came to me. I didn’t have to lift a finger. That’s pretty awesome.

Then there’s the obvious other power of Twitter: getting out the message. That’s what we Western Fictioneers are doing with the new anthology. Every now and then, you could have a gift dropped in your lap. Most of us are not as famous as, say, Nathan Fillion or Lawrence Block. When you look at their Twitter home pages, you see that there are scores more people following them than they themselves follow. But, like a rock in a still lake, they can cause many ripples.

Block tweeted this week that he was reading David Cranmer’s new collection featuring his western heroes Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles. Now, I know that David’s a good salesman and does some good promotion, but I can imagine the spike his ebook took on Amazon after Block revealed his reading choice. The power of Twitter. It’s real, and I am only now becoming aware of it.

I know this isn't rocket science, the power of Twitter, but I'm just now noticing it. Guess I'm late to the party. Still, only 140 characters?

BTW, you can follow Do Some Damage here: @DoSomeDamage. Most of us here have accounts. Log in, start twittering, and let us know what you’re reading. BTW, you should be reading Duane Swierczynski’s Fun and Games because it is the monthly selection of DSD’s little book club: I’ve read it and will be giving my review on Wednesday as part of Barrie Summy’s Book Review Club.

Comic of the Week: Batman: Knight of Vengeance #2. This summer, DC is running their Flashpoint story line as (I think) a lead-in to the revamping of all 52 titles in their line. In this alt-history, Barry Allen’s Flash somehow lands in another timeline where things are very different. Many of the heroes we know and love are not present or are altered. Batman is one of the altered ones. His identity is revealed at the end of Flashpoint #1.

There are several spin-off series that flesh out some other aspects of this altered world. One of them is Batman: Knight of Vengeance. It’s written by Brian Azzarello and that alone should be enough to get you to the comic store today. That he teams up with his 100 Bullets alumnus, Eduardo Russo, is even better. It’s amazing what these guys have packed into the first two of three issues. It’s always fun to see characters that we know in other situations. But the bombshell—and I’m not using that word lightly—they dropped on the last page of issue #2 was huge. My mouth literally dropped open and I think I swore.

The Flashpoint series may not be to everyone’s tastes, but this Batman: Knight of Vengeance is one to treasure.

Character Transformations

By Sandra Ruttan

If it wasn't for the fact that I'm too old to get down on my knees, I think the events of last Tuesday's episode of Biggest Loser would have had me banging my head against the floor.

Actually, I take that back. It's the events after the show, on Twitter, that had me completely baffled. (And before you dismiss this as a post about reality shows, I'm bringing this around to writing, so bear with me.)

Okay, so I watch Biggest Loser. And Survivor. And American Idol. I am fascinated, on multiple levels. By the willingness people have to completely expose themselves to the world in pursuit of a goal, whatever that may be. The $1,000,000 prize might be enough to entice most of us to try Survivor if we had the chance. If I tried out for American Idol I'd probably be in their audition bombs special, so we'll forget about that.

But this is my first time watching Biggest Loser, and it's a whole different story watching that show. It's really hard to view it as a competition, and we don't see the same type of strategizing and manipulation that you see on other "reality" shows.

At least, not most of the time.

This season, BL has been comprised of couples. Friends, husband-wife, father-daughter, mother-daughter, twin brothers, and there are two sisters in there as well. And in the midst of all these pairs, the show welcomed their heaviest contestant ever, in the form of Arthur.

Now, what's been interesting with this show is that nobody seems to wish ill of anyone else. Since the pairs were split into two teams which competed against each other to lose the most weight each week, having your team succeed in their weight loss goals was important. If a team doesn't win the weigh-in, then (unless there's immunity) they have to vote someone out and send them home.

And early on, the eliminations were almost easy. The twin brothers deliberately blew off the weight loss on the show and gained weight so they'd be sent home. It ticked off their trainers and their teammates, and me, too, because there were other people who wanted to be on the show and didn't make it. These two got on and quickly quit, but they didn't have the decency to just outright quit the game and walk away. They forced everyone to put them through it. And after the first brother went home and the second brother was partnered with another person, he got her to gain weight as well so that their team would lose the weigh-in because he wanted to leave.

Talk about selfish. The people on this show, for them, food is like alcohol. They have a real problem with their weight, and for some of these people learning to control their weight and be healthy really is a matter of life and death, so I was completely offended by the idea that anyone would persuade someone else to gain weight just because they wanted to go home.

So it should come as no surprise that I wasn't too happy with the black team a few weeks ago.

There were going to be two eliminations. One would be by vote. The other would be by red line. The person who lost the least amount of weight that week would be automatically eliminated.

One of the mother's on the black team seemed to instigate a team meeting to conspire together about how to save Arthur. Since the team felt Arthur was at the greatest risk of going home, some felt they should make sure he wouldn't be the one to shed the fewest pounds. Arthur's dad actually got pretty upset about the whole thing, because he felt pressured to throw the weigh-in so that Arthur could stay. After all, both of the mothers were saying they'd throw the weigh-in to make sure their daughters would stay. Shouldn't Arthur's dad do the same for him? And then one of the sisters threw a hissy fit and stomped off.

It was actually one of the very rare behind-the-scenes moments where you saw a team fighting.

Meanwhile, over on the red team, nobody was talking about throwing the competition. One of the dads, Moses, was quite worried about his daughter because she'd already lost a good bit of weight, and she was one of the smaller contestants. It's harder for the smaller contestants to pull a big number and lose a lot. So Moses woke her up extra-early every morning and they did an extra workout together every day and really pushed hard.

And at the weigh-in, they put up some great numbers. Neither came close to elimination. The red team won the weigh-in, easily.

The black team lost, with one of the mothers gaining quite a few pounds. And then, there was the vote.

And the team sent Arthur's father home.

The whole thing was so upsetting. It was really too bad those mothers didn't have the same confidence in their daughters that Moses did. Oh, I understand why they did what they did, but they could have made a better choice for everyone, themselves included.

But it was the episode from this past week that led to the twitter comments that had me stunned.

chimp_phil Phil Kirwin

@Ali_Sweeney @MyTrainerBob @JillianMichaels Just watched#BL11. #Reds have shown no class sending Arthur home! Kick their asses #Blacks!

CounselorMusing Karolina

@

Me too. I felt sad...in general they are not as respectful...RT @irunlikeagurl Disappointed in the Red Team this episode #BL11shame on them

irunlikeagurl Melissa

Disappointed in the Red Team this episode #BL11 shame on them

fattack Lady FaFa

Regardless the red team are horrible creatures. Good luck @ArthurBL11 - you SHOW them!!! you can do it! #bl11

bluedani01 Danielle

The Red Team has shown themselves for what they really are. I hope they watch this back and are disgusted. I know I am.#BiggestLoser #BL11

bluedani01 Danielle

Justin, go fuck yourself. You disgust me in so many ways I can't even say. #BiggestLoser #BL11

niicoletraceyy nicole whelan

Just watched this weeks episode of #BL11 not impressed, at all. BS elimination!!!

And it goes on and on and on.

Why did this have me pulling my hair out?

Several weeks ago, the couples faced a temptation. They were locked in a room with all their favorite foods. Fried chicken. Mac 'n' cheese. Pizza. Monkey Break. Geez, I'm making myself hungry just typing it up. The couples that ate the most calories got to pick who left their team for the week and went with the other team. Couple after couple walked into that room and resisted the urge to eat.

And then Arthur and his dad went in. Dad wasn't tempted at all. Arthur was concerned about leaving their fate in someone else's hands. Dad said it didn't matter, if they went with the other team for the week they were going to do the same thing they were doing where they were - train and work out and lose weight. Yeah, Arthur's dad got it.

But Arthur had to be in control, so he ate. He was the only person out of all the couples who ate.

Then there was the Valentine's challenge. There was an opportunity for whoever ate the most, again, to move players onto different teams.

And who do you think ate the most?

In both cases, Arthur was single-handedly responsible for switching teams for other players. His decision in one case directly contributed to the elimination of a contestant who otherwise would still be there. And in the other case, he blatantly stated he'd switched the teams so that he could bring a weaker player onto his team so that if his team lost weigh-in he wouldn't get voted off.

Arthur's been the only person who's really played BL the way you see people scheme on shows like Survivor. But he's big and needy and cries, so all the women on the black team have adopted him.

And apparently, so has America. Now, don't get me wrong. There are things about Arthur I like, too, and he definitely needed the assistance of the show to help him lose weight.

However at the end of the day, it's a show, and a game, and you can't ask people who have exposed themselves to the world via TV, people who've shown off their love handles and then some as they've been weighed in, people who've been that vulnerable because their weight is such an issue and they're so desperate to do something about it, to just walk away for someone else.

But that isn't the real point here. What this all got me thinking about was why people cared so much about Arthur. A few weeks ago, I'd been ready to throttle him. Week after week, Arthur had pulled some pretty low numbers at the weigh-ins, which suggested he hadn't really embraced the program. He had the odd better week, but at his weight his rate of loss should have been higher. Several contestants who'd weighed less had already lost more than 100 pounds, while Arthur was eating to ensure control in temptation challenges and first he sent the strongest players on his team to the other team, and then he did it again to bring on weaker players so that someone else would do worse than him on the weigh-in.

And yet you need to look no further than twitter to be convinced that Arthur has developed a following, and I was also choking back tears as Arthur went home.

What Arthur reminded me of is the fact that flawed characters are often more compelling. This is often true in fiction. We can actually buy in to the idea that they're going to change, and that's often what we become more interested in. People love the idea of change. Whole TV shows and book series have built an audience on the Will they, won't they? question alone.

Imagine how boring a show or book would be if nobody changed anything in their life ever because everything was perfect.

Now, meanwhile, over on Survivor, Russel has been regarded as one of the most evil people ever to play the game, but I'm so ticked that he was voted off. Oh, his lying tribe probably thought they were protecting themselves and making the smart move, but damn. Watching Russel lie, cheat, steal and fight with other players was entertainment. Nobody tunes in for group hugs and campfire songs. They watch to see what he'll do next.

Frankly, without a villain, the show is dull. And without someone you feel needs to change, and want to believe in, really want to see succeed, BL is just a show. Don't get me wrong. I'll be watching to the very end, and I like the red team, and there's really only one player that I can't stand. It's almost more of a family feeling, wanting to tune in and see these people succeed.

But for a lot of people, it seems if the black team gets eliminated and only reds are left, they might not stick around. It's the power of connection with your audience, and it's also the desire to see a successful transformation that drives that show.

I think writers can learn a lot from these types of shows. About conflict, drama, tension, and what it really is that makes people connect with someone. Some of our most loved characters in our genre have obvious flaws; Jack Taylor's an alcoholic, as is Rebus (and I suppose if I were to list the alcoholic protagonists in crime fiction we'd be here for quite a while).

Here's the conclusion I've drawn about character development. External conflict is one thing, but if your character has no internal conflict, they will become static. And that's why Arthur tugged so many heartstrings. He was still working it out, and we could all see his needs. He was wrestling with his demons.

He handled his elimination with a class that put him in a league of his own. For the first time, Arthur wasn't the one everyone else was protecting. He stood up and took it like a man, and didn't point fingers or lay blame at anyone. He was gracious and grateful.

In that moment, he became a leader and, as Ali Sweeney said, an inspiration to us all.

If you could create a character people cared about half as much as they cared about Arthur, you'd have a multi-book deal and TV series to follow. Never underestimate what you can learn from watching how people respond to others.

This week, from the #onlyinCanada file: Man dies after igloo collapses.

And a teaser of things to come...

Back when I was starting out in the mystery genre, I deliberately set out to write about protagonists who were fundamentally decent people. I wanted to know if it was possible to make them as interesting as characters who were obviously flawed. Could I create two good characters people would want to spend time with, and leave the readers wanting more?