The Things We Do For Love

no regrets, ever ...

Last week, Nelson DeMille died at age 81. He was a prolific writer of thrillers and adventure books, the kind you carry in a beach bag to the side of the pool. The kind you buy at the airport bookshop with some salty nuts to help you through the dreadful flight, plane meal, or lack thereof. DeMille wrote highly satisfying books that were hard to put down. His writing style is fast, efficient, laced with humor. The dialogue sizzles and the research (not as tech-nerdy show-offy as Tom Clancy’s) is thorough.

I discovered DeMille relatively recently, maybe ten years ago. I’m late to the game. The man’s first big success, By The Rivers of Babylon, was published in 1978. I haven’t read it yet. I recommend his books but they are not the subject of this post.

This is a confession.

I’m a book swapper.

And Nelson DeMille and Dennis Lehane are responsible.

For many years, Jim and I have vacationed away from the touristy spots. We rarely stay at predictable or bland resorts and hotels. We like to rent a house and explore the neighboring area. No hopping from one must-see landmark to the other, spending hours on the road, living out of a suitcase, and battling the hordes of selfie takers. We are “nesters” that replicate under different skies the rhythms we are used to at home. If after a few days the baker on the corner rings our order without being told what we want, it feels just right. We are creatures of quickly-formed habits in new surroundings.

Most rentals come furnished with what I’ll call “items of entertainment”. Can’t let the guests get bored—in this age of ratings and reviews keeping people happy at all times matters. Sea or lakeside retreats will provide boards and kayaks, a pool will have lounge chairs and floating toys. In case of crappy weather, there are board games, decks of cards, and DVDs. And books.

I suffer from chronic book curiosity.

When they walk into a house, some people notice the floors, the wallpaper, or the art on the walls. My eyes go to the books on the shelves. If there aren’t any, I wonder where they are hidden. In an office, a bedroom out of sight? The presence or absence of books used to tell me something about the people I was visiting. Now that we’ve switched to tablets and e-readers, I can’t make snap judgments about people’s tastes in literature anymore. A win for privacy, I suppose, the pox on my snooping!

Fortunately, most rental properties still provide “physical” reading materials. Books that have been kicked from the shelves of the owner’s main residence. Have they fallen out of love? A house we stayed in for a month had an armoire dedicated to Debbie Macomber. It might have been her entire catalog. I vaguely regret not having read at least a few pages … but I got distracted by Carl Hiaasen. Under a pile of bland stuff, I found a hardcover of Skinny Dip. That was just impossible to resist, sorry Debbie!

My first encounter with Nelson DeMille was during a vacation stay. I did my usual scouting of the paperbacks on display and picked up Nightfall. I’d heard of DeMille but I’d never read him. The back cover blurb was promising:

On a Long Island beach at dusk, Bud Mitchell and Jill Winslow conduct their illicit love affair in front of a video camera, set to record each steamy moment. Suddenly a terrible explosion lights up the sky. Grabbing the camera, the couple flees as approaching police cars speed toward the scene. Five years later, the crash of Flight 800 has been attributed to a mechanical malfunction.

I started reading (you can find chapter one on this website) and lost myself in the book. When I was done, I passed it to Jim who became similarly possessed.

From then on, the book swap was bound to happen. I always travel with my e-reader but I also carry a couple of paperbacks. I traded in the crime novel I’d finished reading for DeMille’s book. Take a book, share a book, the basic principle of the Little Free Library. Did I feel guilty? Briefly.

Nelson DeMille gave me sticky fingers. He had a cool quirky mind, I think he would have appreciated.

A few years later, Dennis Lehane’s Mystic River led me astray again. Put yourself in my shoes, what would you have done? Who leaves a masterpiece like that in a vacation rental, at the (small) mercies of strangers? Yes, I’m a fan.

If I fall in love with a book, I’ll swap it (or is it swipe it?). And I remember the ones I fell for but not the ones I left behind. Isn’t life always like that?

News from the Love You Till Tuesday launch campaign

Kings River Life published one of my articles in their Mystery Maze. Here it is (free to read). Insights into the creation of my fictional character: Declan Shaw was born on Labor Day. You’ll soon know as much as I do. Just kidding …

If you’re in the mood to listen to 20 minutes of a goofy radio interview, I was a guest on Barry Eva’s show – A Book and a Chat – I’m invited for a return engagement, we both enjoyed it way too much!

Hey, if you got the book, leave a few stars on Amazon (no words needed). The algorithm uses the number of reviews as a trigger to promote the novel. Believe me, it helps a lot!