KN Magazine: Articles

D.L. Williams Shane McKnight D.L. Williams Shane McKnight

Drop the Pen! What Every Writer Should Know About Real Police Work

A retired detective turned writer reveals the most common mistakes authors make when writing cops—and how to avoid them. From evidence mishandling to Hollywood tropes, here’s how to get it right and honor the real work behind the badge.

Stop Making Real Cops Cringe

By D.L. Williams


I met my wife at a murder trial. She was a journalist covering the hearings of a man who’d blasted a guy and his girlfriend for stealing his favorite gun, and I was a detective who’d worked on the case. I wasn’t the lead in that investigation, but I’d found the bullets matching the caliber fired from the murder weapon, along with a picture of the suspect holding his treasured “street sweeper” shotgun in his best gangland tough-guy pose, while helping out on the search warrant. 

I remained composed during cross examination when I spotted her from the witness stand, but she was flipping gorgeous. It took concentration to testify about the laundry-piled, old shoe-smelling closet where I’d found the ammunition and photograph, all while thinking about those eyes and the cute way her hair was tucked behind her left ear. Police work can be so rough.

Hollywood makes it seem like detectives hang out after their testimony to watch the drama through the remainder of the trial, but reality is that caseloads generally demand we go back to work on that stack of other cases waiting on our desks. That day, however, I stuck around, hoping for a chance to meet the woman taking notes in the second row. She was the consummate professional, however, and would have little to do with a cop involved in a case she was covering. It worked out, though. Sometime later we had lunch…and grandkids. 

Recently we were watching a mystery on one of the streaming services. It was more cozy than thriller, not our usual fare, but we like the lead actress from previous series and decided to give it a try. The storyline follows a civilian employee working for a metropolitan police department who solves a murder case by scrutinizing a conspiracy board when all the cops had gone home for the night. Think of a brilliant but flawed Matt Damon staring at a wall of math while holding a push broom, the only one able to solve the equation in Good Will Hunting. 

The show was fine until the middle of the second act when the protagonist was chastised by her detective mentor for taking items out of an evidence locker without permission, ferrying them to her own home so she could have a closer look, and then allowing her precocious ten-year-old son to help her sift through said evidence to get his take on things. The only question for my wife and I at that point was who was closer to the remote. 

Last year I was asked to read an Advance Review Copy for a mystery/thriller author. The story involved a street-savvy investigator, yet the protagonist routinely performed in ways that made him appear naïve. One glaring instance had him realizing his gun had been stolen, and he presumed the murderer was now in possession of his one and only available weapon. Despite this, he continued on to confront this shadowy menace without backup or a weapon of any kind. We get it; he’s a tough guy who doesn’t need any help and moves faster than bullets. He’s also an idiot. 

That kind of decision is counter to any logical response, yet the character had been nothing but disciplined and well trained up to that point. He was not thinking like a cop anymore, and many regular readers of mystery or real-life criminal justice professionals would raise an eyebrow and move on to the next book in the To Be Read pile. 

Readers and viewers may suspend some disbelief over iffy police or investigative practices for a cozy mystery, less so for darker thrillers, and not at all for police procedurals. It’s perfectly fine to fudge a bit while creating red herrings and crafting unusual characters. What is not okay is to simply omit or obscure good procedure for lack of research or to spackle over a plot hole. Frankly, it comes off as lazy, unimaginative, or a bit desperate. 

Oftentimes this creates work that feels like a copy of a copy, as if the writer learned all they know about police work from other writers of mystery or from watching old cop shows—lots of “just the facts, ma’am,” and “ten-fours,” but very little in terms of well-researched practice. 

This would never fly in historical fiction. Readers of that genre demand well-researched details in novels and films, and they tend to be something of experts themselves when it comes to a specific historical period. Writers of mysteries and procedurals should rise to at least that level of expectation when it comes to their own projects. 

You don’t have to be a beat cop or detective to write good mysteries, but you owe it to the story, your readers, and your own reputation to better understand the culture and practices involved. Unconstitutional searches and seizures, derivative suspect interrogations, and clueless practices by experienced professionals scratch across prose like a record needle bouncing over vinyl tracks. 

Of course, that may be exactly what you had in mind if you’re developing a sinister or incompetent cop character. You may want to portray a detective as inept or corrupt, in which case folding an unconstitutional search or an abusive interrogation into the storyline may be just the direction you need to take. Even then, I encourage writers to cultivate an understanding of how cops think, the mindset of predators, and basic victimology. The result will be more nuanced and compelling character arcs.

I hear from writers across the country asking questions about specific passages in their stories, and I’m always honored to discuss ideas on how they can generate more authenticity into their works in progress. They often lament what they perceive as a lack of resources for learning more about police practices and culture. Many have a great premise but no clear direction on how to make the story ring true. 

There are many books on the subject of professional police work and best practices in criminal investigations. My suggestions for getting started include Criminology Goes to The Movies (Nicole Rafter and Michelle Brown), Walk the Blue Line (James Patterson), and Malicious Intent: A Writer’s Guide to How Murderer’s, Robbers, Rapists and Other Criminals Behave (Sean Mactire). 

Additionally, I encourage you to explore writing conferences offering speakers on topics related to the mystery genre. Time and finances for travel don’t need to hold you back. There are several online seminars devoted to teaching real police work for authors. Writers’ Police Academy, for example, offers an online version of their in-person conference. Better yet, go directly to the source. 

You may already know a cop or have access to one by a degree or two of separation. Set up coffee or lunch and pick that officer’s brain about scenes you’re crafting. Certainly, ask them questions pertaining to your plot, but I encourage you to take things a step further once you’ve developed some rapport. At that point you can try to open them up about their scariest day, a case they’re most proud of, or how they came to the profession. You’re likely to be amazed, and your notebook is going to be filled with new, adventurous ideas on where your story or series can go next. 

Consider riding along with a local police or sheriff’s department. Many agencies welcome members of the community to ride out with a patrol officer or deputy, allowing you to see, hear, smell, and sense real police work up close. The officers picked for such assignments tend to be more experienced, and most have demonstrated a willingness and ability to talk about their profession in vivid and frank terms.

Explore a citizen’s police academy if you want an even more immersive experience. This is a modified version of a real academy where you get hands-on experience with forensic techniques, clarity on constitutional concerns related to policing, a sampling of various services offered by the department, and some self-defense and firearms training. You’ll have a ball, make new friends, and add experts to your writing network.

I was an English Lit major, which means I wrote good police reports (extra points if I could work in a metaphor). It also means I will forever be in awe of great writing. I feel kinship with and reverence for storytellers and want each of us to rise beyond our own perceived abilities. The expectation I hold for myself is that I will treat our craft with the same discipline as a surgeon would for medicine or a dancer for music. That means we’re in a practice, where we acknowledge we will never learn enough, yet we can never stop trying to learn more. 

Writers shouldn’t prescribe paths for other writers. Voice is all about telling our stories in our own cadence and combinations. That said, I’m asking you to honor my former profession by learning about it, then honor yourself and your work by weaving what you’ve learned into extraordinary stories we celebrate and remember. Onward!


David “D.L.” Williams is a public safety veteran with assignments including paramedicine, patrol in high-need areas, helicopter rescue, mental health liaison, and violent crime investigations as a detective. During his thirty-year career, Williams was twice named Officer of the Year by the Fraternal Order of Police, and he has been recognized by Rotary Club, the American Legion, and the National Coalition Against Sexual Violence for his work with families and children in crisis. He now teaches criminology at the University of Arkansas, and he is the bestselling author of Fighting for Her Life: What to do When Someone You Know is Being Abused and Textbooks, Not Targets: How to Prevent School Shootings in Your Community. He and his family have settled in the Ozark Mountains where they offer a haven for donkeys and horses who previously endured a rough life.

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Steven Womack Shane McKnight Steven Womack Shane McKnight

This Crazy Writing Life: On Defining a Book By Its Cover

Book covers aren’t just decoration—they’re essential marketing tools. In this installment of This Crazy Writing Life, we explore how covers impact book sales, indie publishing strategies, genre expectations, and why you might want to leave the design to a pro.

By Steven Womack


We left off last month’s column with an exploration of the technical aspects (and challenges) of formatting the interior of print books. This month, let’s talk about the exterior of the book—the cover.

Before we get started, though, one quick sidebar. In late September, I drove back from St. Petersburg Beach, Florida (just about 48 hours ahead of Hurricane Helene) after attending the annual conference of Novelists, Inc. Novelists, Inc. may not be as well known as some of the other major writers professional associations like the Mystery Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, or SFWA—Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America—but since it was started in late 1980s by a group of disgruntled romance writers, it’s emerged as one of the most powerful trade associations out there. It’s the only writers’ organization I know of outside of the Writers Guild of America that requires you to actually be a professional writer to join. To gain admittance to NINC, you have to have published at least two novels in popular genres like romance or mystery, and you have to have earned a minimum amount of money from those two books (the exact requirements are outlined on the website at www.ninc.com).

Readers and fans, editors and agents are not eligible to join NINC. The founders of the organization decided that NINC would never offer prizes or awards (like the MWA and RWA) because this fostered a sense of competition that was contrary to the organization’s purpose of encouraging and lifting up all writers in the struggle to survive in this crazy business. And business is the focus of the conference as well as the organization; you’ll rarely see a NINC panel on how to write sparkling dialogue. But you will see panels on understanding the intricacies of subrights licenses and contracts or the technical aspects of independent audiobook production.

Sponsors pay big bucks to have a presence at the NINC conference (in the spirit of complete transparency, I’m a former president of the organization and a current Board member). The reason I bring this up is that as a result, some of the most cutting-edge aspects of indie publishing show up at this conference. Every time I go, I learn something new. Last year, the big topic of discussion was the use of A.I. generated voices in audiobook narration. This year, there seems to be a big movement toward indie authors selling books directly from their websites. The One Big Thing I learned is that taking a simple, static author website and turning it into a true e-commerce platform is something I’m just not quite ready for.

In future columns, I’ll share some of the things I’ve learned from these conferences. As independent publishing continues to grow from an isolated few stubborn writers trying to survive into a cultural and business movement that has totally remade publishing, dozens of other companies have sprouted up as well to serve this market.

As I’ve said more than once lately, it’s a whole new world out there.

***

I was curious as to where the phrase/cliché Don’t judge a book by its cover came from, so I Googled it. Turns out George Eliot first coined that turn-of-phrase in her 1860 novel, The Mill on the Floss.

Gotta confess, I missed that one.

But I’ve heard the adage all my life, which is a metaphorical phrase telling us that outward appearances can be deceiving, that we should never judge anyone or anything by its external looks.

Sounds good on the surface; only problem is it’s hogwash. 

We judge everything by its external appearance. A car may be the most dependable, rugged, efficient vehicle ever made, but if it makes you look like a complete yutz driving it, you’re not going to buy one (are you listening, Walter White, cruising along in your Pontiac Aztec?)

You may meet someone at a party who would be the kindest, most loving, passionate and dependable life partner you could ever wish for, but if their hair is greasy and dirty, they smell bad, snot’s running out of their nose, and they have huge pit stains, you’re probably gonna take a pass.

It’s the same with book covers. The indie pubbing world is full of stories of books that didn’t sell for squat, so the authors yanked the books down, changed the cover, put the book back up without changing a word and now it sells like crazy. You may have written a classic, a prize-winner, a book that will last through the ages, but if your cover turns everyone off, then the book’s going to be a loser.

I’m speaking for myself now, but I’ll bet a lot of you are in the same boat. I’m not a graphic artist, and when it comes to good cover design, I wouldn’t know it if it ran up behind me and bit me on the butt. Truth is, I’m not even qualified to write about book covers from an artist’s point-of-view. I have absolutely no talent as a graphic designer. So, I’m writing this from the perspective of an indie-pubber who has to deal with the fact that he’s not even capable of telling good design from bad.

Maybe I’m being a little hard on myself here. Truth is, I’ve been around book covers my whole life, and while I have no talent as a designer, I am a sophisticated and experienced consumer of books. I know when a book cover design doesn’t work for me. And when I run across a brilliant book cover, it moves me on a visceral level.

I’m not overstating here: your book cover is the first and one of the most important marketing tools you have.

So how do you deploy this tool to make your book as marketable as possible?

First, it’s got to convey a certain amount of information. The title of the book—and subtitle, if it’s got one—and the author’s name should be prominent, along with any other information that will help sell the book (as in “New York Times Bestselling Author”). I have actually seen book covers where the author’s name was hard to read. When that happens, someone needs an intervention.

Second, the design/artwork should stand out visually. Whether on a jam-packed bookstore shelf or a crowded Amazon web page, there should be something that grabs your eye as you scan from Point A to Point B. I realize that’s a nebulous, unfocused notion. If I could actually define in solid terms what “stand out visually” means, then I’d be a famous well-paid cover artist and not the word-shoveling literary coal miner that I am. The best I can do is echo Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, who—in attempting to define obscenity in Jacobellis v. Ohio—famously wrote I know it when I see it.

Third, your cover design must reflect and communicate the book’s genre and tone. If you’ve written a light-hearted cozy mystery where the protagonist’s cute but feisty cat solves the murder based on a plot point that’s a recipe for cream cheese blintzes, then a dark, brooding, heavily shadowed cover with a pair of threatening, glowing eyes coming out of the mist is not going to help you. Conversely, you’re not going to sell a graphic, disturbing serial killer suspense novel with a bright, cheery cover of pinks and blues, cartoon characters and fonts with extra curlicues and other cutesy elements.

This requires you to learn and study the conventions of your genre, to research what works and what doesn’t work, and to learn the expectations of your audience.

Stuff you should already be doing anyway…

One of the best examples of dynamite book covers out there today are the books published by Hard Case Crime. Hard Case Crime publishes crime fiction that echoes back to the paperback pulp fiction era of the 1940s through the late 1060s, when writers like Mickey Spillane, Cornell Woolrich, and Robert Bloch were flourishing. They’re bringing back and revitalizing the old hard-boiled school with contemporary writers like Stephen King, Lawrence Block, and Max Allan Collins, as well as republishing long-dead writers like Donald Westlake and Woolrich. And their books all feature covers that are homages to those great mass-market paperback pulp fiction covers.

While I admittedly am not a designer myself, I do find that there are certain things I react positively to and others that turn me off. I subscribe to a lot of book promotions websites: BookBub, Free Booksy, Robinreads, etc. So I get way too many push emails every day, and most of them are for indie-pubbed books. I’ve noticed in the last couple of years that more and more book covers depend on stock photos for their visuals, especially in genres like romance. I get that original art costs a fortune, but there’s something about a generic stock photo on a book cover that screams self-published, and I find that a turn-off. You can start with stock photography if you want, but with programs like Canva and Book Brush out there, in my view one should at least put a little effort into manipulating and adapting the image to make it more unique.

The bottom line for most writers—myself included—is that the best way to land that beautiful book cover is to find a cover artist you trust and whose work you admire. Only problem is, they can be hard to find and kind of expensive. It’s a challenge to find that sweet spot between “I love your stuff” and “oh, I can afford that.” I worked with a designer for several years when I repubbed the out-of-print novels in my Music City Murders series. Dawn Charles did a fabulous job for me, was great to work with, with very reasonable fees. Unfortunately, she passed away a few years ago. But go to my Amazon page and you’ll see what I’m talking about; it’s an object lesson in how to create a brand.

And I mentioned earlier, companies are popping up everywhere to help indie pubbers get the help they need. One that’s been around over a decade is Reedsy, which is a company that’s an online employment agency for publishing freelancers of all types; editors, designers, formatters, etc. They’re great to work with and a good place to start.

We’ll continue this discussion next month. Thanks again for hanging with This Crazy Writing Life.

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Judy Penz Sheluk Shane McKnight Judy Penz Sheluk Shane McKnight

No One Wants You to Fail

The deadline is looming, and you’re wondering whether to apply for a Killer Nashville panel spot. Should you submit your application or back out? Remember, no one wants you to fail. Everyone has been where you are, and the only real failure is never trying.


The deadline is looming and you’re wondering, not for the first time, if you should apply for a Killer Nashville panel spot. The fearless side of you says, why not? Even if you apply, you may not get selected. After all, it’s your first conference. Maybe, even, your first book. Should you fill out the form and hit “Submit?”

In a weak moment (or perhaps one of false bravado) you decide to go for it. And now you’re second (and third) guessing the wisdom of that decision. Perhaps you’re even thinking of backing out—surely there’s a long list of authors more than willing to replace you, right?

Well, yes, almost certainly. And you wouldn’t be the first (or the last) author to have a change of heart. But before you send in your regrets, there’s one thing you need to remember:

No one wants you to fail.

Think about that for a moment. Have you ever sat in the audience while a speaker struggled? Of course you have. Did you snicker at their discomfort? Take pleasure in watching them bumble and stumble along? Or did you feel their pain and embarrassment, almost as though it were your own? My guess is you silently rooted for them, knowing they’d been rehearsing for days, if not weeks.

I’ll be honest. Public speaking in any form doesn’t come naturally to me—I think of myself as an introverted extrovert. In other words, I “can” be an extrovert when it’s required, but I’m happiest when I’m alone in my office making stuff up. Preferably in pajama pants, my dog lying under my desk.

It seems like only yesterday that I was nervously pacing the halls of the host hotel before my very first panel. It was 2015, my debut year at Bouchercon Raleigh, and the organizers had put me on a panel with Tom Franklin, the American Guest of Honor. 

Tom Franklin! Author of the Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter. It doesn’t get much scarier than that. But I took more than a couple of deep breaths and told myself I could do it.

Was I perfect? No. Not even close. But I survived to tell the tale. And you will too. Because the only way you’ll really fail is to never try. 

But hey, you’re an author. You already know that. 


Judy Penz Sheluk is the bestselling author of Finding Your Path to Publication and Self-publishing: The Ins & Outs of Going Indie, as well as two mystery series: the Glass Dolphin Mysteries and Marketville Mysteries. Her short crime fiction appears in several collections, including the Superior Shores Anthologies, which she also edited. Find her at www.judypenzsheluk.com.

A note from Killer Nashville: We’d love to see your interest in panels for this year’s conference. Click here if you’re registered and would like to take part in a panel. 

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