Earl Staggs Loves His Two Perfect Jobs

Writer Friends…

It's impossible to say why we like one writer more than others. Or prefer one style of writing more than the rest.

Kinda like when we're drawn to one person in a crowd.

The big guy who sat beside me at an MWA Board meeting and told me about how he just had to put down his cat. Then became my friend for life.

The quiet woman in Lewis Frumkes' Writing Center at Marymount Manhattan, now, many years later, my first reader.

The generous winner of 32 Emmys and many top writing awards - one of the most generous souls on the planet!

I don't recall when or how I first noticed our guest for today - it may have been on a blog, or a mention by a kind friend. Or reading his novel about a former FBI profiler. Or his high-octane thriller about Tall Chambers.

When you read his simple but deep words here today, I think you'll fall under the spell of one of the nicest guys on our planet too.

Please welcome—again—Earl Staggs…

T. J. Straw

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I’ve heard it said that if you’re doing something you enjoy, it’s not work. I’ll attest to that because I have two jobs I dearly love.

Bear with me a minute while I tell you how it came about.

I’ve worked since I was fifteen. That’s how old you had to be to get a work permit for an after-school job in Baltimore. My first job was in a men’s secondhand clothing store. My chores were simple: restack pants on the right tables and return jackets and suits to their racks after browsers finished with them, and sweep floors. The owner even paid me extra to meet his daughter after night school and walk her home through the tough neighborhood. I made enough to buy cigarettes, clothes with an employee’s discount and Clearasil for occasional acne breakouts.

Later, while still in high school, I had similar jobs in a five and ten, a women’s clothing store (where I did not buy any clothes), and an Army surplus store. That kept me busy and out of major trouble until I graduated and went in a new direction: office work.

I worked for a couple years in a building contractor’s office followed by a long stint in several departments of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. At the B&O, I crawled up the ladder to Office Manager and met a beautiful coworker named Carol.

Eventually, Carol and I married, and I left the confines of inside office work for outside sales, first in business forms, then insurance, along with jobs in a large bank and a national trade association. I even spent time as an independent business consultant.

During that time, Carol and I concentrated heavily on our most important job, which was raising two beautiful daughters and spoiling four beautiful grandchildren.

You may be wondering why I’m telling you all that boring personal history. Simple. I wanted to impress you with the fact that I’ve held a number of jobs. Some I liked and some I stayed with only because I needed a pay check.

And then it was time to retire. I thought it was time to take life easy. Maybe take up golf or gardening. Little did I know that, before long, I would have two new jobs, both of which I dearly loved. Besides that, I didn’t like golf or gardening.

I decided to try something I’d always wanted to do… well, ever since my high school English teacher said I had a natural talent for writing. I decided to try my hand at writing fiction.

I call writing a job because it involves hard work. Ask any writer.

To begin, I signed up for a writing class at the community college. The class happened to be about writing short mystery stories. It was a natural fit since mystery had always been my favorite genre for reading and for movies and TV shows. By the end of the class, I had written a short story called “The Missing Sniper” involving a psychic private eye and, of course, a murder. It took a while to get it published in a magazine. (Actually, it appeared in two magazines simultaneously, but how that happened is a whole ’nuther long story.)

The response to the story was so positive and encouraging, I wrote a mystery novel featuring the same protagonist and called it MEMORY OF A MURDER. Over the next few years, more of my short stories found publication as well as another novel titled JUSTIFIED ACTION, which I called a Mystery/Thriller. I also published a collection of my stories called, of all things, SHORT STORIES OF EARL STAGGS.

I love my writing job. I love the part where I stare at a blank screen and accept the challenge of sprinkling a lot of words all over it in such a way that a good story is told. Someone once said it’s 10% writing and 90% rewriting. I believe that. Rewriting is taking what seemed like a good idea but turned into a hodge podge of words in need of rearrangement, replacement, and refinement. It can take hours, days or longer.

Finally, the right words are in the right place, the story works, and it was worth all the hard work. Validation that you’ve met the challenge comes when someone agrees to publish it. That’s the part I love best.

After that happens a few times, you can say you’re a writer. You may not say it aloud and you may not say it to anyone else. It may only be a silent feeling somewhere inside. But, for sure, you’re a writer, Once you reach that point, you will always be a writer because you can’t not write. The challenge is irresistible.

Earl the Writer

I was only a year into retirement and struggling to become a writer, however, when I realized something. Writing is a solitary, inside job. When I left inside jobs to be a salesman, I found I enjoyed being out and about in the big old world and spending time with other members of the human race. It also dawned on me that if you don’t have to get up in the morning, go somewhere and do something, you can get old. I didn’t want to get old. There was too much I still wanted to do.

So, I decided to get another job. I didn’t want a full-time job because that would cut into my writing time. I wanted something part-time, not hard or too demanding, but a job that got me out of the house and gave me access and interaction with other people. Maybe I could stand in the doorway of Walmart and say, “Welcome to Walmart. Do you want a cart?” That was one avenue I considered in my search.

Then, purely by chance, I came up with the perfect second job. I found in my yard a flier from the local school district. They were hiring school bus drivers. I’d never considered anything like that, but I was curious and called them. I went for an appointment and was hired the same day.

Driving a school bus would entail working a couple hours in the morning to get the kids to school and a couple in the afternoon to get them home again. In between, there would be about six hours of free time. Time I could spend writing. Perfect!

It took a while to get started. You have to study a manual about the size of the Dallas phone directory and take a test to get a Commercial Drivers License. Then you have to actually learn how to drive a bus. You have to get used to operating a vehicle as big as three cars with a dashboard having as many buttons and switches as a small airplane. You not only have to drive and use all those buttons and switches, but you have to keep an eye on fifty kids behind you. If they’re not sitting down or are making too much noise, you have to remind them they must remain seated while the bus is in motion and to use their inside voice. Five minutes later, you have to remind them again. Kids will be kids, you know.

In spite of that, once I started, I loved it. It helps that I like kids. Most of them.

My kids range from kindergarten to eighth grade and while spending time with them in the morning and again in the afternoon, I get to know them. Occasionally, some will misbehave. I even have fun with the discipline. Once I told them, “If you don’t behave, I’ll have to kill you. I don’t mind going back to jail. Some of my best friends are there.” They know I’m a kidder and they laughed, but they got the message. I enjoy seeing them every day and watching them grow. The kindergartners and first graders are the most lovable. I get plenty of smiles and hugs from them.

I also get to know their parents and teachers. Oddly enough, in conversation with them, the fact that I’m a writer always seems to pop out. Once a salesman, always a salesman, I suppose. Many of the teachers and parents have bought my books and frequently ask when the next one will come out.

Earl the Bus Driver

Now that you’ve read all the way to here, you know how I came to have my two jobs. You’re now invited to visit my website at http://earlwstaggs.wordpress.com where you can:

Read Chapter One of MEMORY OF A MURDER
Read Chapter One of JUSTIFIED ACTION
Read THE DAY I ALMOST BECAME A GREAT WRITER which some say is the funniest short story I’ve ever written
Read WHITE HATS AND HAPPY TRAILS about the day I spent with a boyhood idol, Roy Rogers.
and more.

I know some people with jobs they love, but I don’t know anyone with two of them. I think I’m a lucky guy to have two that go together like Holmes and Watson, Castle and Beckett, peanut butter and jelly.

What do you think?

© 2015 Earl Staggs

Help! Torn Between Two Men

July 1, 2012, Earl Staggs enchanted us with his tale of teaching kindergartners about being a writer. From Fort Worth he is again adding to our pleasure, as readers and fellow writers, with his ongoing series of two men, different, honorable, intriguing, likable—Adam Kingston and Tall Chambers. After Earl and I discussed what might be a thought-provoking topic for his visit to Crime Writer's Chronicle today, I reread both novels, MEMORY OF A MURDER and JUSTIFIED ACTION, to make sure I had in the front of my mind the two personas that ground his crime novels. This year I've watched several readers storm the barricades, crying to this author, "More, please!"—and am delighted Earl is going to comply—with more of Adam Kingston and Tall Chambers in the near future! I read a lot of NYT bestsellers and find that most of these books lack the touch Earl Staggs has . I do not finish many of the bestsellers—but I have read his books twice! Do you hear a message here?

As a fellow southerner, today I am "mighty pleased" to welcome Earl and Adam and Tall back to our increasingly popular blog—Crime Writer's Chronicle!

Thelma Jacqueline Straw

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The title of this post would be great for a Romance novel, don’t you think? Since I write Mystery, not Romance, I suppose I’d better explain who the two men are and why I’m caught in a conundrum. Or is it a quandary? A quagmire, perhaps. Whatever it is, I have an important decision to make and you may be able to help.

Adam Kingston is the first of the two men crying out for my attention. Adam’s a quiet, unassuming kind of guy who doesn’t look for or start trouble. Unfortunately, trouble comes to him. You see, Adam was once an FBI Special Agent.

After a near-fatal auto accident, a strange thing happened. During his recovery, Adam discovered the accident had jarred loose some latent psychic abilities. Doctors and Professors with lots of initials after their names told him it’s not unusual for a traumatic incident to do that. He began to get flashes. Not hot flashes. His flashes were quick mental images of things that happened in the past. For example, if he touches an object related to a crime or visits a crime scene, he may get images containing clues to what happened. Sometimes the images are so vague, confusing and enigmatic he has no idea what they mean. Those experts with all those initials also told him that’s not unusual for psychic images. It’s not an exact science, they explained.

Instead of returning to the FBI, Adam became a private investigator. Now he works mostly on cases for the FBI and other law enforcement agencies and they keep him fairly busy. His gift is often helpful in solving cases, but it always comes down to good old fashioned police work.

Adam first entered my life in a short story called “The Missing Sniper.” We hit it off right away and when the story was published, a lot of readers liked him, too. The response was so encouraging, I decided to give Adam his own novel. The result was MEMORY OF A MURDER. Many more readers became fans of Adam and have asked me when there will be a sequel.

That’s part of the problem plaguing me.

The other part of my vexing situation is Tall Chambers. Tall spent twenty years in the Army, mostly in the Middle East as a Special Services officer. After the Army, he joined a secretive agency which made good use of his skills and experience. The agency tracks down terrorists and puts them out of business before innocent people are killed. If the terrorists want to meet Allah and collect their virgins, the agency puts them in the express lane.

Tall Chambers began taking shape in my mind shortly after the horror of 9-11. He was an embryonic fixture in my imagination for several years. At first, his story was about taking out terrorists. Eventually, that became only the backdrop and Tall’s personal life became the focus. While Tall was taking care of business, someone close to him was murdered. He put everything else aside and devoted his skills and experience to finding the killer and setting things right. Writing Tall’s story was a great opportunity to explore people who do what he does and how it affects their everyday lives.

A few months ago, Tall’s story was published as a novel called JUSTIFIED ACTION. Reaction from readers and reviewers has been fantastic. That, of course, raises the question of a sequel. Will there be one? Of course. Tall and his crew have a lot of stories to tell, so there is no reason why there can’t be a series.

Adam Kingston is also a perfect candidate for a series.

The two men are quite different, but both are exciting, challenging, and fun to write. While Adam is more of a laid-back kind of guy, Tall’s responsibilities require him to go where the action is and meet it head on. Adam is more the cerebral type. He looks before he leaps. Tall leaps and shouts “Look out!” on the way down.

And therein lies my conundrum. Or my quandary. Or quagmire, or whatever you want to call it.

Which sequel should I write first? I can’t do them at the same time. I don’t write that way. I have to concentrate solely on one project until it’s finished.

Should I spend the next few months on a sequel for Adam because he came into my life first? Or, since Tall is new and fresher, should I concentrate my time and efforts on getting him out there again in a new story?

If you’ve ever had to choose between two men in one way or another, maybe you have some advice or suggestions to offer.

Earl Staggs
earlstaggs@sbcglobal.net
http://earlwstaggs.wordpress.com

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Earl Staggs earned a long list of Five Star reviews for his novels MEMORY OF A MURDER and JUSTIFIED ACTION and has twice received a Derringer Award for Best Short Story of the Year. He served as Managing Editor of Futures Mystery Magazine, as President of the Short Mystery Fiction Society, is a contributing blog member of Murderous Musings and Make Mine Mystery and a frequent speaker at conferences and seminars.

Earl Staggs' Kindergarten Challenge

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Our guest for today is Earl Staggs, a Derringer Award winner, former President of the Short Mystery Fiction Society and Managing Editor of Futures Mystery Magazine. His recent novel, Memory of a Murder, earned 13 Five Star Reviews online at Amazon and B&N. Earl resides in Fort Worth, Texas, and is well-known to the mystery community.

He graciously allowed us to reprint his blog from June 11, 2012. He shares his wonderfully creative experience in talking to a group of wee folk about how to be a writer when you grow up.

Hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

T.J. Straw

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Story by Earl Staggs
Photos by CAROLE RYAN

After I retired from the insurance business, I discovered I didn’t like staying home all day. I found a part time job driving a school bus. The job only takes up two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon, it gets me out of the house every day and keeps me in touch with other members of the human race, and I happen to like kids. Most of them.

Casey Stapp and me. Funny,
I don't remember my teachers
being this pretty.

I also make new friends among parents and teachers. One teacher, Casey Stapp, became a good friend. Her two sons ride my bus, she read my novel MEMORY OF A MURDER, her father is a writer, and I read his book. Not only that, but when she stops for breakfast in the morning, she often brings me a sausage biscuit.

So when Casey asked me if I would visit her class and talk about writing, I immediately said yes. Then I remembered something. She teaches Kindergarten!

Now, I love talking about writing. I jump at the chance to meet with a group of readers or writers, make a presentation at a conference or seminar, or appear on a panel. I’d do it on a street corner if I could get the audience to stand still long enough.

But, how in the world would I talk about writing to a room full of five-year-olds?

Believe me, I worried and fretted over doing this. I wanted desperately to make it meaningful and talk to them on their level. Yes, definitely a major challenge.

While I fretted and worried, I learned something interesting. At this particular school, Rockenbaugh Elementary in Southlake, Texas, all grades from Kindergarten to Fourth Grade have a class in creative writing. I’ve long worried about where the next generation of writers will come from. Most young people I know spend their time thumbing meaningless text messages on their phones with no regard for spelling, grammar or creativity. I was astounded and heartened to learn these young people were being schooled in writing. Maybe there’s hope for the future of writing after all.

But back to my challenge.

I knew I had to present the art and craft of writing in such a way that they would understand what I was saying and, at the same time, be entertained. I knew I had to hold their interest for twenty-five minutes, my allotted time. We’re talking about an audience with an attention span of about twenty-five seconds, if that. I knew I needed to make it interactive and get them involved both mentally and physically.

So, with all that in mind, I went at it. I’m not going to repeat the entire presentation here, but here are some of the highlights.

After Mrs. Stapp introduced me, I asked how many rode a bus to school. Nearly every hand went up. “I love my job and I love my bus,” I said. “I’m going to do a cheer for school buses.”

And I did. I raised a fist in the air, made circles with it, and shouted, “Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! for school buses!”

Then I asked them to do it with me. They did, but it was very soft and timid. I told them we needed to do better and asked the teacher if it would be all right if we made some noise. She said yes, so we did it again. We shook the room.

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR SCHOOL BUSES!”

They enjoyed it this time.

Next, I told them I was also a writer. I held up my novel, MEMORY OF A MURDER, and pointed to my name on the cover. Then I held up my collection, SHORT STORIES OF EARL STAGGS, and pointed to my name. I did the same with two of the magazines in which my stories appeared and pointed out my name on the covers.

“Do you think,” I asked, “it feels good to see my name on the cover? You bet it does. Let’s do a cheer for books and magazines.”

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR BOOKS AND MAGAZINES!”

This time, we shook the entire school. They were getting into it.

“To be a writer and get your name on books and magazines,” I continued, “you have to be a good writer. But being a good writer can help you even if you don’t become a writer. Suppose, when you grow up, you want to work in a bank. One day, your boss tells you to write a report about banks. If you’re a good writer, you will write a good report and your boss will be happy. He may be so happy, he will pay you more money. Let’s do a cheer for more money.”

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR MORE MONEY!”

After that cheer, I expected the riot squad to rush in.

I gave them more examples of ways being a good writer could help them as grownups.

“So, being a good writer,” I told them, “can help you no matter what kind of job you do when you grow up. Now let’s talk about how you can learn to be a good writer.”

I talked for several minutes about the importance of school because that’s where we learn all the things we need when we grow up, no matter what kind of job we do. “Without school, we would all be dummies,” I told them.

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR SCHOOL!”

Mrs. Stapp winced at the amount of noise we made that time, but she also gave me a smile.

I talked next about learning words and spelling. “To be a good writer or to be good at any kind of job,” I went on, “you have to know a lot of words. Did you know that the more words you know, the smarter you are? That’s right. Read as much as you can and when you come across a word you don’t know, find out what it means and how to spell it. Every time you learn a new word, you get a little bit smarter.”

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR WORDS AND SPELLING!’

Then I told them, “To be a good writer, you also have to use something you’re born with. It’s called imagination. That’s a part of your brain where you can pretend and make believe and dream up anything you want to, all by yourself and in your own mind. It’s also where you can come up with ideas for stories to write. Let’s have some fun now. I’ll reach into my imagination and find a story idea that would be fun to write.”

The story idea involved a hero, a princess, a bad wizard, and fire-breathing dragons. I asked for volunteers to play the parts and selected Graham to be the Mighty Warrior and Angel to be the Beautiful Princess. I played the part of Bad Earl, the Terrible Wizard. In our story, the Wizard kidnapped the Beautiful Princess and took her to his castle. The Mighty Warrior had to fight the dragons and rescue her. Everyone in the class was a member of his army, and they had fun shooting their imaginary magic bows and arrows to drive away the dragons. We made a lot of noise playing out our story, but the teacher didn’t mind. At the end, Mighty Warrior Graham had to fight Bad Earl with imaginary swords. He beat me and sent me off to jail.

To end the story, I said, “Then Mighty Warrior Graham takes Beautiful Princess Angel home to her family and they get married.”

That brought loud “Ooohs” and “Ahhhs” from the audience. Graham grimaced and shook his head. He obviously didn’t like the idea of getting married.

“Graham,” I told him, “the good part about making up your own stories is that you can write the ending any way you want. How about instead of getting married, you go to Hollywood where they make all the movies, and you can be the star in a superhero movie?”

Graham liked that idea.

All the kids agreed it would be cool to reach into their imagination, find a story idea like that one, and write it.

To close out my presentation, I thanked Mrs. Stapp for inviting me to come in, and we gave her a cheer.

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR MRS. STAPP!”

Then I thanked the class for being a terrific group.

“And remember,” I said, “working hard in school and learning to be a good writer will help you in any job you do when you grow up, even if you don’t become a writer. But, if you do become a writer and someday someone asks you who inspired you to be a writer, tell them Mr. Earl the school bus driver did. That will make me very happy.”

Mrs. Stapp took over at that point and led the class in a cheer for me.

“WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! FOR MR. EARL!”

That, my friends, made me very happy.

Meeting some of the Kindergartners
after it was over.

And that’s how it went when I took on My Kindergarten Challenge. I hope I did okay. What do you think?

Earl Staggs