Interview: S.W. Lauden & Eric Beetner...Part Deux

S.W. Lauden

Welcome back literary and sports fans. Please enjoy part two of my interview with Steve Lauden and Eric Beetner, two L.A. crime writers that have a more-than-decent handle on what the heck it is they do! Find them at: swlauden.com & ericbeetner.com

7. Thanks for agreeing to part two of this interview lads. Here we go: I listen to music when I write. It’s usually rock, prog rock, old school funk or classical. If you cats write to tunes, what genre(s) moves your words across the laptop’s divide?


Eric: I need silence or lately I’ve been listening to rain sounds or other ambient weirdness. You can find stuff on YouTube like an 8 hour loop of the ambient noise from Deckard’s apartment in Blade Runner or the ambience from the crew deck of the Nostromo in Alien. I like that stuff but I’m totally fine in silence. I can’t write to actual music and I think those of you who do are freaks.


Steve: I’m currently sitting at the Starbuck’s on Universal Citywalk listening to a really terrible cover of “Take On Me” blasting from the overhead speakers as I type this. That’s going to be my method moving forward. All A-ha covers, all the time. What was the question again?



8. According to my research, which is embarrassingly limited due to a busy schedule of leisure, at one time, if not currently you cats had literary agents. If any of this is fact based please glean-us-up on what the relationship was/is like. Did she land you publishing deals then move on or did she also work on the marketing side for y’all? ie: did she set up signings, book conferences and interviews for you, quietly bank roll the podcast with offshore money?


Eric: I’ve had two in the past that I’ve split with. One by choice and one not. If it’s not a good match, you have to move on. Of my 22 books only one of those was landed by an agent and that deal went sour pretty quickly. I’m on the hunt currently for a new agent so if any are reading this… As for marketing and that side, it’s been 100% me. At every step of the way.

Eric Beetner

Steve: I once had one agent. I now have zero agents. There hasn’t been any real difference in terms of my writing career because I landed and negotiated the book deals with Rare Bird Books and Down & Out Books before I had an agent, but I do miss feeling like there are experienced professionals out there going to bat for me.



9. Picture this: If Hollywood tapped you on your shoulders (like they haven’t already) and said, “Hey lads, we’re going to make a movie about each of your lives—specifically focusing on the music/writing era. Who do you want to play you in the movie? (Outside of me of course). Pick one living actor (always best) and one deceased actor that we can hologram/C.G.I. as you.”


Eric: People always say I look like Will Arnett so that would be good casting just to match the look. So few actors can pull off playing guitar on screen and guitar players always notice. And to find a punk/hardcore guy would be even tougher. Adam Horovitz from Beastie Boys is actually a decent actor so maybe he could do it. Definitely a smaller pool to pull from in the musician turned actor world. Look no further than Johnny Ramone in Rock and Roll High School or Ace Freely in Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park.

Steve's latest

Steve: I want Will Ferrell to play the part of Chad Smith from the Red Hot Chili Peppers in a movie,
whether it has anything to do with my life story or not. If anybody made a movie about our podcast, I’d want Andy Richter to play me—just so I could feel validated in making that comparison over and over again.

Eric's latest 

10. Wow, you cats have been great. But I need a quick favor. I’m working a flash fiction piece and I’ve got myself into a jam. I’ve always felt that you guys are the Smothers Brothers of the literary world. (Google it kids). I’m at the end of the piece and I need you to put a bow on it in 75 words of less. Here’s what I’ve got:


Jimmy Jack Jacobson a.k.a. Triple J is considered L.A.’s fiercest bounty hunter. He hovers outside the rundown motel room door and puts an ear to the cheap pine. ‘Yup, he’s in there’. Triple J raises his size 14 Timberland shit-kicker boot 
and turns the door into kindling. As he steps into the room he tosses out his well- worn line. “Party’s over Bub. Pack up, we got a plane to—” but the scene stops 
his words. A three-legged Chihuahua sits on a dresser and barks incessantly. The television set blares a Rockford Files re-run. The bounty hunter’s target, Dirk Dirkington wearing nothing but boxer shorts is pinned against the wall by a 6’5’’ bald woman with a pirate patch over her right eye, and she’s strangling him toward flat line. A scrawny surfer looking guy ignores Triple J because he’s busy 
screaming, “Dude!” repeatedly at the Chihuahua. As the fearless bounty hunter is about to move to his ‘pay day’ the muzzle of a Glock 19 digs into his temple. A woman with more rasp to her voice than Miles Davis says, “You kicked in the wrong door champ.” 

And that’s all I got fellas. I need an ending! Do you mind wrapping this up for me in 75 words or less? I’m up against it with a deadline. Oh, and if Hollywood decides to option the piece I’ll square up.


Eric:
Triple J only moved his lips. “My man there’s got a number on his head. But it doesn’t say dead or alive. They want him breathing.”
Eyepatch loosened her grip and Dirk fell to the floor. The dog kept at it. The raspy voice lowered the Glock. “How much?”
“Enough I don’t want you fucking it up.”
She smiled and he lifted his Timberland to kick in her teeth. The Glock was in his hand and the bald woman suddenly needed two eyepatches…and a coroner. The surfer dude stood in place, shivering. Triple J lifted Dirk off the floor. “I’ll be taking that dog with me too,” he said. The surfer dude didn’t argue. Triple J held the dog into his hands. “Can’t stand to see a dog mistreated.” He kicked Dirk hard in the crotch and walked him out.




Steve: Triple J turned around, closing the door behind him. He was the reason that chihuahua lost his leg during a blurry weekend in Tucson—and they both knew it. That was one memory he just wasn’t ready to confront.

Coming up next, my hard hitting interview with softball questions with the great: Shawn Reilly Simmons. Author of The Red Carpet Catering Mysteries. Shawn is a firecracker of an author. You're gonna love her!