As many a despot before him, Raoul Guzman came to think of himself as infallible, indispensable, the savior of his people. It was a shock when the coup came. Even as he boarded his private plane, escaping into exile, he told himself, It was the Americans who did this. My people will see their mistake. They will call me back.
He still believed this two years later when he died in a Miami Beach hotel room, two prostitutes in his bed. The gold watch once presented him by the Russian ambassador was never found.
So go the first two paragraphs of my latest finished novel, THE DICTATOR’S CHILDREN. I wrote them more than a year ago and let them sit, occasionally thinking about them. Then I sat down and churned out the rest of the novel in less than three weeks. Admittedly, it is a short novel at 54,000 words.
And now pretty well rewritten and edited too. We are looking at a May 4 release date for this action novel of espionage, the first (I hope) to feature the Polish expat and adventurer Wilk.
One thing I recognized while writing this novel (though I knew it already) is that is not necessary to clear up every little detail if it does not effect the plot. It is okay to say ‘the mafia might have gunned him down or it might have been the secret police.’ Hey, they may have both had good reason and he’s just as dead!
I think just a touch of ambiguity adds to the realism. Our protagonists can’t know everything, but they muddle on anyway. Just as in more-or-less real life.