My second novel, Swindler’s Paradise has met with critical acclaim from several corners, primarily the corner of my dining room where several boxes of the book are stacked. One particular critic has chosen to go beyond the standard book review and has entered a critique of my entire volume of work. Arnaud du Potash who writes in the Footlick Literary Monitor in Snakeblood, South Missouri, has given me permission to use parts of his essay here and to respond as I deem necessary. (There is not really a state of South Missouri, but I chose not to point that out to him. For obvious reasons.)

Mr. du Potash posits: “Both of Mr. Logue’s stunning novels start out with a man on a train. This man will soon be pummeled to death by a blunt object to the head. I do hope that future books will find some combination other than a train ride and a bludgeon to introduce the heinous event. It almost appears that Mr. Logue is in league with the NRA to downplay the incidence of gun violence in this country by shifting the blame to more benign objects as weapons.”

Well, not to reveal too much or to disappoint Mr. du Potash, (I understand that the original spelling of his name was du Poutache, but he he chose to Americanize when an immigration official at the Canadian border called him Mr. Pow-take) but I must admit that the third book, which should be ready soon, also involves train travel. And yes, the unlucky commuter is then struck down by the ubiquitous blunt object. But it is not the opening of the story. I have moved it a few chapters in so that I could more skilfully develop several plot mechanisms.

Why trains and bludgeons? I try to write in historical context. In the early twentieth century train travel was quite popular and blunt instruments were commonly found laying about everywhere. Mr. du Potash would have no frame of reference to this historical feature of our society, as being an immigrant, he would not have the same appreciation for our history as do we. His family came to this country in a round about way from a long forgotten region of France called Woollen Knees, which until they were completely forgotten about were under the impression that King John still controlled their feudal estate. (They were sending men to fight the French right up until 1957.) When the east fork of the Iano tributary dried up completely, both of the permanent residents migrated to Canada where they could continue to live in the Franco-Anglo confusion to which they had become accustomed. When they lost their life savings buying ice futures and found themselves penniless, they moved to Snakeblood, South Missouri and applied for Social Security. This is when Mr. du Potash began his career as a literary critic to augment his earnings as a split-cane weaver. For whatever he reason he chose to weave cuspidors almost exclusively, and sales have not been as brisk as he had hoped.

So part of my response to Mr. du Potash is that in One Fiddle Too Many, there is a second murder which is committed by means of a gun. A small derringer concealed in a garter belt. In Swindler’s Paradise, a second murder is committed by jabbing an ice-pick into the eye. Admittedly, the ice-pick murder is part of the denouement (which he pronounced de-now-ment in his telephone interview with me) but nevertheless was a bludgeon-less murder. And, need I remind Mr. du Potash that the victim in Swindler’s Paradise had been poisoned prior to the head pummeling. I hope I’m not giving too much away if one of the very few who has not read it.

In spite of his obsession with the mode of travel and choice of weapon, Mu. du Potash gives both books very favorable reviews. Both earned four and a half pea-pods on a five pea-pod scale. When he mentioned the pea-pod scale, I understood why I could not find his podcasts anywhere on line. Apparently he is under the impression that seeding freshly tilled soil is called podcasting in this country.

At another point in his critique, he lamented the omission of a map. I have to agree that when I am reading a novel, I find a map to be an elucidating addition. Especially when the action unfolds in a specific and limited geographic space with which one may be unfamiliar. On the other hand, I have read novels without benefit of a map and have enjoyed them no less. Including a map is a challenge. First one must determine how and to whom tribute is given. I would need maps that are historically accurate, and most of those are in private collections. And people who have private collections of historical maps are usually, in my experience, shall we say, an eccentric bunch. Secondly, it creates technical issues with the actual process of printing, such as font recognition. The print process is challenging enough without this. All that being said, my third novel will most likely have a map, because it really needs one. It is tentatively titled A Deadly Reunion, and when it comes out, you will see that a map of the area is critical.

So, what do the Van Poolians of the world think? Is the train/bludgeon combo wearing thin? Is it done? Have I pummeled that head once too many times? Frankly, I think that a good bludgeoning about the head and shoulders, while no doubt an inelegant way to die, makes for a dandy murder investigation. I am an enthusiastic gun owner and gun lover. But what I don’t want the Van Poole novels to become is a bunch of technical analysis of calibers, grains of powder, and all the stuff you can find on television at any hour of the day. I want my murders to be about people. Motive. Love. Hate. Anger.

I always welcome constructive criticism from my readers, and from such high-born personages as Arnaud du Potash. It keeps me focused on my work, and that keeps me looking for new ways to entertain and inform. I will have much more from Mr. du Potash in my next posting.