Reed Farrel Coleman

Called a hard-boiled poet by NPR’s Maureen Corrigan and the noir poet laureate in the Huffington Post, Reed Farrel Coleman is the New York Times-bestselling author of over thirty novels—including six in Robert B. Parker’s Jesse Stone series—short stories, poetry, and essays.

In addition to his acclaimed series characters, Moe Prager and Gus Murphy, he has written the stand-alone novel Gun Church and collaborated with decorated Irish crime writer Ken Bruen on the novel Tower.

Coleman is a four time Edgar Award nominee in three different categories: Best Novel, Best Paperback Original, and Best Short Story. He is a four-time recipient of the Shamus Award for Best PI Novel of the Year. He has also won the Audie, Macavity, Barry, and Anthony Awards.

Coleman's new novel is Sleepless City.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

I studied poetry at Brooklyn College with David Lehman. He once said that if it isn’t worth a title, it isn’t worth writing. He also pointed out that the titles of poems are sometimes the actual first lines. Titles have always been significant to me. In fact, in my now thirty plus years of being a published novelist, I have never begun a book without a strong sense of what the title would be and I have never once changed a title to suit a publisher. I have also helped several colleagues title their books. Sleepless City is an obvious allusion to New York City’s reputation as the city that never sleepless. But there’s something edgier about insomnia and sleeplessness. That’s what I was going for, the edge. My sense is that most everyone who might read the book will get the allusion and it won’t take many pages, one or two at most, for them to see how the title is so appropriate to the writing.

What's in a name?

Here again, I’ll refer to my studying poetry. Although I knew from the get go that Sleepless City would be the book’s title, Nick Ryan’s name wasn’t always Nick Ryan. What went into my choice was threefold: 1) the rhythm of the name, 2) the ethnicity of the character, 3) the setting of the novel. I’ve always felt that readers like three syllable names: Moe Prager, Gus Murphy, Nick Ryan. More importantly, I like three syllable names with the first name being one syllable and the last name being two. To me, Nick said aloud, is like the snap of my fingers. I thought it suited him. He’s quick at decision making, but savvy. At first I toyed with Nick being Italian, but felt Brooklyn Irish worked better. I wanted to harken back and to play with the stereotype of the NY Irish cop. Nick is anything but that. Still, he comes from a cop family and is dogged, loyal, and understands his duty to the people of the city. And then of course, Nick must be of a place. My dear friend, award-winning author Peter Spiegelman, has always said that setting is the soil in which your characters grow. A character who can exist in any setting doesn’t work for me. Nick is so of Brooklyn and of the city, that it would be silly for him to be Nick anywhere else.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?

The teenage Reed would have been shocked that I finished a novel let alone one as complex as Sleepless City. As a kid I was a quitter and never finished anything. When things got tough or uncomfortable, I stopped. It was only after a very difficult time in my early twenties and sought to change who I was that I developed the discipline to write anything of length. That said, teenage Reed would understand Nick’s Brooklyn roots and his connection to the city. When I was fifteen, I watched a man die of a gunshot wound not more than ten feet in front of me. It’s a long story, but that incident helped shape my notions about the differences between right and justice, violent crime, and how it reverberates. So, while teenage Reed could never have the discipline to write Sleepless City, he would get Nick’s struggles with justice and violence.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

Endings are more difficult because I don’t outline, so not being certain of where I’m going makes getting to the end more of a challenge. The end has to suggest itself to me. I don’t write to an end because that seems so artificial. It keeps me engaged all the way through the book and helps to prevent muddy middles. In my Moe Prager novel Innocent Monster, I changed who did it because my own writing suggested a better, more interesting candidate for the role than I thought originally. I’m writing a stand-alone now and have only recently realized whodunit and why and how I’m going to work through the mechanics of it.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

Depends. I’ve always said Moe Prager was a braver, better looking, slightly less intelligent version of me. He’s from where I’m from, went to the same schools, but is my oldest brother’s age. I’m not much like Gus or Gulliver. The pat answer is that since I write them they are by definition somewhat a reflection of me. It’s the pat answer because, like all cliches, it’s got a kernel of truth in it.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

That’s easy. I grew up in an angry household. My dad, whom I loved dearly, was a bitter resentful person. He had his reasons. His anger and my mom’s passive-aggressiveness led to constant screaming between my parents, my brothers and me. We loved each other but we expressed everything, even love, maybe especially love, through the prism of anger. When everyone is screaming, no one can hear you. So, I believe I began writing poetry as a way to be heard above the din. I suppose it’s worked or I wouldn’t be answering these questions.

Visit Reed Farrel Coleman's website.

My Book, The Movie: Sleepless City.

--Marshal Zeringue