Thursday, January 13, 2022

Guest Post: On Writing “Kick Out the Jams” by Steve Liskow


Please welcome back Steve Liskow to the blog today. Like Tom Milani who recently shared his experience of writing his short story, A Hard Night In Hamburg, for the Groovy Gumshoes: Private Eyes in the Psychedelic Sixties anthology, Steve Liskow has a story in the anthology. Today he shares the background for his tale, Kick Out The Jams. Edited by Michael Bracken, the book is currently scheduled to come out in April. One gets the feeling that April is destined to be a busy month for anthology readers.

 

Some time ago, Michael Bracken posted a submission call for Groovy Gumshoes, Psychedelic PIs in the Sixties. He encouraged writers to use a real historical event in the story, and I graduated from high school in 1965, so I knew the turf.

But what major event? We saw several assassinations, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, Vietnam, Woodstock…so many choices. I wanted one nobody else would select so I’d stand apart.

Then I remembered the riots.

I attended Oakland University’s summer session in 1967. Oakland County lies just north of Detroit. About 85% of the Oakland students were residents of the Detroit Metropolitan area, and many lived on campus to avoid the commute.

One Monday morning in July, CKLW radio reported that police had raided a “blind pig” Sunday night. By Monday afternoon, organized resistance swept the city. My dorm mates and I watched the television coverage as the fires grew and demonstrators kept fire fighters at bay with bottles and rocks. The Detroit police actually had radio stations stop playing the Doors’ “Light My Fire,” number three on the charts.

Over the next four days, 100 blocks burned, including the homes of two of my dorm mates. One watched his house collapse on ABC evening news. I don’t remember his name, but I still see his face.

My room mate at the time became an attorney in Detroit, and I asked him to email me pictures. I had a Detroit map because my Woody Guthrie series is set in Detroit already. I had albums by the Motown groups, Bob Seger, The Amboy Dukes, The Stooges, and the MC5. The following winter, the MC5 recorded their first LP live at the Grande (pronounced GRAN-DEE) Ballroom in Detroit, including the song “The Motor City’s Burning.” They performed at the Grande the weekend after the National Guard arrested thousands of people. Their famous (censored) album cut was “Kick Out The Jams,” introduced by the singer as “Kick Out the Jams, Mother F#*@&s,” the last part being sloppily dubbed to “brothers and sisters,” but not until the record’s second pressing.

There was my title. I gave my PI a case following a radical young woman who had a lot to do with starting the fireworks. I wrote the first draft in two days and kept polishing the dialogue and details.

It will appear in Groovy Gumshoes sometime in April. I hope you’ll pick up a copy and take a walk down memory lane, even though there are some dark spots along the way. That’s what noir’s all about, innit?

 


Steve Liskow © 2022 

Steve Liskow (www.steveliskow.com) has published 16 novels and 40 short stories in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Black Cat Mystery Magazine, Tough, Mystery Magazine, and various anthologies. Before Covid-19 appeared, he conducted fiction writing workshops at libraries throughout central Connecticut. He has appeared on panels for both MWA and SinC, and blogs on Sleuthsayers.org. He has been a finalist for both the Edgar Award and the Shamus Award, has won Honorable Mention for the Al Blanchard Story Award four times, and was the first two-time winner of the Black Orchid Novella Award. He lives in Connecticut with his wife, Barbara, a costumed tour guide at the Mark Twain House.

 

5 comments:

Ann E O said...

Quite interesting...brings back lots of Detroit and Detroit area memories.So naive during those times, Steve's memory jog sets the stage for stories of my own of a later era but maybe just as provoking...maybe. Steve's stories are so interesting. He's quite the teacher...

Don Coffin said...

Looking forward to the book and especially your story. As it happens, I also graduated HH in 1965, in a city (Indianapolis) that was spared the kind of upheaval Detroit went through. Oddly, perhaps, I was actually in Detroit in 1967 (for a college debate event), staying in shiny new downtown hotel (I forget the name). And spent a night In Flint, with a women I had met a year earlier ai a similar event in Champaign/Urbana. Illinois. Two years later, the 1969 edition of that college debate event was held in Washington, DC--the day after MLK was assassinated. Looking out our hotel (the Willard) window, just a couple of blocks from the White House, at a street devoid of traffic (vehicular or pedestrian), with only military jeeps and 18-year old scared kids patrolling the street with loaded weapons. Then, in the spring of 1970, I was in Madison, Wisconsin (grad school). And (in the aftermath of Kent State), the streets were filled with national guardsmen on the ground and helicopters in the air (the 'copters were dropping tear gas fairly randomly.

We got through that with only one death that I knew of-...

Since 1970, my life has been devoid of military presence and tear gas. But for a while there I was wondering if it was something I had done.

Don Coffin
(That gmail account is one I have never used; I don't even remember why I got it. My actual emain is doncoffin@aol.com

Don Coffin said...

My reference to 1969 should, of course, be a reference to 1968. This is a perfect example of a brain fart. Also of sloppy proof-reading. Sigh.

Kevin R. Tipple said...

Typos and brain farts happen. It is the way.

cj petterson said...

cj Sez: I was married to a suburban firefighter at that time and several adjoining cities were recruited to assist the Detroit stations. The firefighters were shot at while they worked. He spent several nights resting in a fenced-in school yard surrounded by armed National Guard troops. I had to turn off the TV after my small sons became really scared their daddy was going to get killed. Can't say thanks for the memories, Steve, but I'm sure your story was another of your great ones.