Going for the Realistic Gusto

I’m gonna start this post with a disclaimer: Michael Chiklis is awesome. Full stop. The Emmy he won for his work on The Shield was a no-brainer. He’s been in more movies and TV shows than you can shake a stick at, and has done a solid job in each and every one.

With one possible exception. And it’s not his fault.

Recently, my wife and I were scouring our many streaming service options for something new to watch when we stumbled across a series called Coyote. In it, Michael Chiklis plays Ben Clemens, a retiring Border Patrol agent. Through a series of misadventures, Ben winds up on the other side of the line helping the same people he spent his career trying to stop from entering the United States illegally.

It was an intriguing premise, but I bailed after a single episode for what to me was a glaringly obvious reason: somehow, Ben Clemens—a Border Patrol agent working in the San Diego sector, with 32 years of experience—spoke nary a word of Spanish.

I refuse to pin this lapse on Michael Chiklis, as the people who produced, created, and wrote this series should have known better. And, yes, Coyote is fiction. Still, this oversight, while not malicious, was nonetheless a gran bandera roja for me as a viewer.

What I’ve learned in my meager experience writing fiction is that you gotta keep it real. Sure, you can lambaste me for being a 60-year-old white man whose MC is a 40-year-old Hawaiian woman. Fair enough, although it is possible and indeed acceptable to write what you don’t know. My point is, no matter the genre, fiction should follow certain rules in order to present some degree of realism for the reader.

I’ve made up a lot of shit in my Noelani Lee mysteries, some of which I suspect has induced the handful of people who’ve read them to groan and shake their heads. Yet I’ve always done my best to present Noe and her supporting cast as “real” people, living in real times in a real place and experiencing real things. Still, as writers often do, I’ve needed to seek help to support my quest for plausibility.

In my first seven books, I based Noe’s professional practices on materials I’ve read by real private investigators; others were the products of my imagination. But as I began plotting my eighth novel—in which an attorney hires a reluctant Noe to clear his client of murder—I realized I had better consult an expert to avoid making huge, unforgivable mistakes.

I started by emailing plot-specific questions to PI agencies in Hawaii. Before long, I was on the phone with Debra Allen with 808 Investigations in Kailua, Oahu. Debra and I spoke at length and I cannot express how grateful I am to her for taking her valuable time to help me. I mean, come on, who the hell am I? As a bonus, she offered colorful asides about the reputation of police on the Big Island (it’s not all good) and other anecdotal observations that I’m weaving into the draft.

Our conversation was enlightening. And necessary. As the story is based on an unsolved real-life murder from the early 20th century fast-forwardded to Hilo, Hawaii in late 2016, I wanted Noe’s actions to be as credible as possible. Not that I never wanted this for her in the past, but this time—considering the complexity of the case—I felt an added urgency for realism.

If I’m gonna bottom-line it for my fellow authors, I’d say no matter your genre, go for the realistic gusto. Seek out professionals whose worlds intersect with your fictional universe, take time to interview them, and apply their expertise to make your characters and their experiences as true as possible. And be sure to acknowledge and thank them for their contributions!

As I continue writing my novels, I plan on utilizing the advice and information I gleaned from Debra Allen to provide as much realism as I can to my stories.

Even if Noelani Lee never learns to speak Spanish.