Also By Michael Lister

Also by Michael Lister

A Sawyer Payne and Kace Mason Mystery

A Dark Radiant Rain

Jimmy "Soldier" Riley Noir Mysteries

The Big Goodbye

John Jordan Mysteries

Power in the Blood

Beneath A Blood-Red Sky

Out for Blood (Coming Soon)

The Wedding

The Meaning Series

Finding the Way Again

Meaning Every Moment

The Meaning of Life in Movies

Watch for more at Michael Lister’s site.

Introduction by the Author

I became a writer in the summer of 1994.

Three years and three months later, in the fall of 1997, I became a published author.

During this time, two true crime cases dominated our culture, the public national trial that was the O. J. Simpson case and the horrific, tragic death of JonBenét Ramsey—both of which are experiencing renewed interest as I write this, because they too are marking their twentieth anniversary.

Power in the Blood was my very first attempt at writing a novel—not just my first novel to be published, but the first I ever wrote.

Writing is like anything else—you learn by doing, by practice. I’ve been practicing the craft of writing for nearly twenty-three years now. In that time I’ve gotten better at it, grown and evolved, discovered my voice, honed my style.

After twenty-plus years of writing, the Power in the Blood I would write today is not the Power in the Blood that was published twenty years ago. Of course, if I hadn’t written that Power in the Blood back then, I wouldn’t be able to write Cold Blood, the novel I’m working on as I write this. Way leads to way. Book leads to book. Everything builds on that which comes before.

The writer I am today is only because of the writers I was before.

How did I become that first fledgling writer?

I was probably born with a love of story. I can certainly remember craving story as a child. Being moved by story are among my earliest memories.

As a teenager who was reading mostly nonfiction, I was led to detective fiction by, of all things, a TV show. Spenser for Hire led me to the books by Robert B. Parker the show was based on, and I fell in love with character, prose, and dialog.

After high school, I moved from my small Florida Panhandle town of Wewahitchka to Atlanta—not unlike John Jordan—and though I was there for theological training, it was a lit class taught by Tricia Weeks that was to be among the most inspirational and influential of my undergraduate degree program.

Then I happened upon the 1990 Avenel edition of G. K. Chesterton’s Father Brown Crime Stories in a dusty old bookstore in Atlanta the year I graduated from theology college and was ordained, and it was nothing less than serendipitous. During that momentous year of transition, as I was being born into my adult life, Chesterton in many ways became my literary father, and Brown the fictional father to my ecclesiastical sleuth, John Jordan.

Between 1988 and 1994, I attempted on and off to write short stories and screenplays, but it wouldn’t be until the summer of ’94, as I was finishing my graduate degree in theology and about to enter into full-time prison chaplaincy, that I became a writer. That summer, in an upstairs room at my parents’ house I converted into my library and study because my small home didn’t have room for them, in the semi-coolness provided by the inefficient window unit, after a long and drawn-out delivery, a writer was born. John Jordan was born. This book was born.

It was during this time that I discovered other crime writers who have had a profound influence on my work, like James Lee Burke and Michael Connelly (who has contributed an essay for this book). It was also during this time that I attended my first novel-writing workshop taught by Lynn Wallace (who has also contributed an essay for this book).

And because way leads to way and book leads to book, I began a kind of self-designed curriculum for my education as a new writer, which included Shakespeare, Hemingway, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Melville, Chandler, Faulkner, Flannery O’Connor, Updike, Roth, Irving, DeLillo, Fitzgerald, and Cormac McCarthy.

Over the next twenty-plus years, I continued my education and training, and after some thirty books, thirteen of which are John Jordan novels, here I am.

I feel like somewhere along the way I learned to write some, and I hope twenty years from now I’ll have learned a lot more.

At some point during the past twenty years since Power in the Blood was first published, probably back around the time I learned a little about writing, I began wanting to rewrite it. I’ve thought about it for years, but was uncertain as to how to approach it or when to take the time away from current and future books to do it. And then a couple of years back it occurred to me that the twentieth anniversary of the book would be the perfect time.

The moment I decided to rewrite Power in the Blood for this special edition, I had to decide exactly what that meant. Was I going to toss out the original and start over? Was I going to keep the original and just tweak and lightly edit? Was I going to change the story? The plot? The style?

Ultimately, I chose to keep the original book, but do heavy revision without changing the essential plot and characters in any fundamental way.

This new, revised version of Power in the Blood more closely matches my style, my voice, my approach to the novel today than the original version from twenty years ago. However, since I kept the characters, plot, and structure of the original, this new version is a hybrid—neither completely the novel I would have written back then, nor the one I would write today.

This is a remodel instead of new construction. I kept the bones of the original book, the foundation, some of the wiring, walls, and plumbing, but rebuilt and repurposed and redid most everything else. This new version is not a completely new house, but neither is it an old one either. In that way, I believe it shows the first-time novelist I was and the twenty-sixth-time novelist I’ve become.

The writer I’ve become has increasingly been about what I leave out as much as what I put in. Saying more, evoking more, discovering more with less—fewer words, less exposition, less explanation—has been the biggest part of my particular evolution. And this new version of Power in the Blood reflects that. Whatever else it is, it’s cleaner, leaner prose, and closer to my authentic style, my true voice.

I hope you enjoy this version of Power in the Blood, that it serves as a good introduction to John Jordan. And, most importantly of all, I hope you see in it the seeds of what the series will become and want to journey with John throughout the entirety of the books featuring him, however many books that ultimately turns out to be.

Michael Lister

January 2017

Michael Connelly Introduction

It’s hard to write a book. You have to keep so many plates spinning on sticks. You’ve got the plot. You’ve got the place you are writing about. You’ve got the what-happens-next plate that can never wobble. You’ve got the momentum plate. You’ve got the humor plate. And the compassion plate. And I could go on and on. You’ve got the need to blend all of these things together into one act and keep them spinning, always spinning. Oh, and did I mention that you are holding all of these sticks up and spinning all of these plates while walking on a tight rope? No, wait, walking would be too easy. Change that. You are actually riding a tricycle on a tight rope.

Yes, it’s a major high wire act, fraught with danger and failure, and that wire is the most important part of the whole thing. That high wire is character, and the whole thing comes crashing down plates and all if you don’t have it right. If that wire is not taut and reliable and secure. If that character is not one for the ages.

Now with all of that, think about getting back on that high wire with the same character time and time again. Six shows a week and two on Sunday. It is not for the faint of heart, I can tell you that. It is hard to do it once. It is harder to do it time and time again. And that’s what writing a book series is like.

And that is what Michael Lister has done for 20 years with the character of John Jordan and what he has been able to do for 20 years with his own muse. Not just sustain. Not just keep his balance on the wire. Not just go back to the well again and again. He has filled the well, he has expanded the boundaries of what he does with character. He has gotten better. He has somehow been able to find within him the inspiration to get back on the wire and do it again, only better.

It may be that the challenge and accomplishment of this can only be fully known and understood by the one who does it. No matter. Take my word for it. Michael Lister has become a master storyteller in his first 20 years and he’s only getting started.

Michael Connelly

January 2017

Real Blood: John Jordan and his Counterpart

By Aaron Bearden

If you are reading this, it is possible you count yourself as a John Jordan fan. Perhaps you have followed him through all of his cases, navigating crimes both real and fictional across several towns and multiple states, through ups and downs in his personal life.

You may be a casual admirer of Mr. Jordan’s, one who has read a few stories about him, but are still working your way through all twelve (and counting!) novels in his series. Should time allow, you may get caught up on them before too many more are published, turning your reading list into a Sisyphean endeavor—albeit a very satisfying and noble one.

You may have followed him for years, awaiting each new book with the polite patience only a dedicated lover of art anticipating the next foray into the unknown territory of a favorite artist’s mind can know, and finishing it in less time than it took for the font of the title on the cover to be selected (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

There is a slim chance you have enjoyed reading about John Jordan for twenty years now, having started with Power in the Blood upon its release in 1997. If you have remained a member of Michael Lister’s audience throughout, know that you share in something rare in any artistic medium: a twenty-year relationship between artist and audience is not something that happens often to either party.

There is also the chance this is your first time reading a John Jordan mystery. On Michael’s behalf, I welcome you to his literary world, and hope it will not be your only excursion therein.

I say all of that to explain that I, in comparison to most every reader I have met at one of Michael’s signings, am a relative newcomer to the character of John Jordan.

When I first met Michael, Power in the Blood was his only John Jordan novel.

When I finally got around to reading one, there were ten.

It’s not that I didn’t read any of Michael’s work in that time. On the contrary, I had read all of the Jimmy Riley “Big” books, Double Exposure, Cataclysmos, and several non-series titles. I had narrated the audiobook for Meaning Every Moment, and produced several other audiobooks for him. We had worked on a play (The Big Hello) and a short film (Spilled Blood). I was well acquainted with the Listerverse.

Except for that John Jordan guy.

I can’t say what had ever kept me from reading one. I had meant to. Like the dinner guests in Luis Bunuel’s The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, who had every intention of sitting down to enjoy a meal together but kept getting interrupted, I was always finding something standing in my way, blocking the path. Sometimes it was another of Michael’s projects on which I was working. Sometimes it was one of my own.

The first time I reached the last page of a John Jordan book, I knew what the readers I had met at Michael’s signings had felt, some for the fourth, fifth, or maybe tenth time. I had been treated to something special. It was no ordinary yarn.

I say “yarn” because, in some sense, that’s the foundation of the novel as an art form. It very often can be boiled down to a novelist saying, “Hey, let me tell you this story I thought up. I think you’ll like it.” There are certain required elements: a setting, a plot, a protagonist. All those things you learned in English or theater classes. The rest, very often, is just a measure of how well it’s dressed up and presented.

What I felt when reading a John Jordan book was something else. It was a chance to observe an author so in touch with his character—his creation—that it transcended the flea circus of storytelling. I felt like I was reading about a real person.

John Jordan is not a cookie-cutter caricature. He’s not a brooding loner, too devoted to the job to ever have time for a family. He doesn’t play by his own rules. He’s not a loose cannon, above the law, with a death wish, or in possession of any other silly trait that lesser characters rely on to seem interesting.

John is principled. Dedicated. Compassionate. Loyal and honest.

Yet for all his virtues, John’s flaws are what make him three-dimensional. He is unwavering in his pursuit of what’s right, but he doubts himself when it comes to those to whom he is closest. He reminds himself to be understanding with the woman he loves. He worries about the choices he makes as a parent. He’s had his moments of weakness. Sometimes those moments lasted longer than he’d want to admit.

I believe one way to know if a character is well-written is if you, the reader or audience, feel as though you know how they would react to situations that aren’t on the page. We know enough about John Jordan to know where he would stand. He advocates for the oppressed, the downtrodden, and the mistreated. He has an obligation to justice, but not to revenge. He makes a case for truth, not speculation. We know this about John because Michael has presented us with a character so well fleshed-out that we know not just his actions, but his reasons for them.

I don’t want to spoil details of any specific books for anyone who hasn’t read them. I wouldn’t dream of robbing from anyone the discoveries that wait in the pages of the John Jordan series.

There is little I could offer to long-time readers of the series anyway, regarding the character.

If I have anything to tell you now, on the twentieth anniversary of John Jordan’s existence as a literary hero of the people, it is probably best summarized in eight words.

Readers know John Jordan; I know Michael Lister.

The reason John Jordan is such a complex, compelling figure is that he comes from the brain—or the soul—of a complex and compelling person. Michael Lister exhibits many (most? all?) of John’s positive qualities. He is compassionate, principled, loyal, and honest.

Yet I don’t believe for a moment that John is a product of wish fulfillment, or a manifestation of Michael himself on the page. That is the province of bad writers, who write themselves into a story to defeat the villain and save the girl.

As I said I met Michael when Power in the Blood was his only John Jordan book, around 1999 or 2000. He was a guest speaker in a writing course I was taking, and having already published a hardcover novel, he was something of a guru to the class.

His hometown and mine are a fifteen-minute drive apart. Without realizing it, as a child I rode by his family home every week. It wasn’t until ten years later that we would meet, and ten after that before we became friends. In that time I had released an album and felt comfortable enough with my work to think I could talk to him without bothering him, or sounding like I was asking for advice or help.

We became friends while I produced an audiobook for him. We bonded over a shared appreciation for art, especially music and film. We have overlapping but not identical tastes, and have introduced each other to new favorite books, songwriters, TV shows, and so on.

At this point if a day goes by without speaking to him at least through a text, it feels wrong.

I know enough of Michael to know John Jordan is not merely how he wants to see himself. If anything, John is how Michael wants to see us all. He wants to see John’s integrity and devotion in everyone. He wants the world around him to be filled with people who will do what’s right, even when it’s not what’s easiest. He wants to know the person behind him in line at the grocery store or driving ahead of him on the road is as mindful of how they live their life and as concerned about the choices they make as a father, mother, spouse, neighbor, or friend as John is.

Some writers want to be like their characters. I think Michael wants us all to be like John.

I had the opportunity to interview Michael at a release party for one of his books, and we spent over an hour with an audience of loyal readers, discussing his projects. When our time was up, there was one question left that I didn’t get a chance to ask.

When you wrote Power in the Blood, how much did you know about John Jordan, compared to what you know about him after twenty years and ten books?

I suspect I know the answer to that question now.

In that time, Michael has raised three amazing kids. He has married a woman who makes him happier than any person I know. He has seen his career take off, thanks in no small part to John Jordan. He has had wonderful opportunities, to interact with fans, befriend some of his favorite writers, and live every day translating the ideas in his head into various books, plays, and films, surrounded by a group of friends and family he treasures. He lives with the integrity of his characters and an awareness and thankfulness for the moment he’s in at all times.

Michael has always known the person he is, but the past twenty years have given him chances to live up to his ideals and display his own character; he’s also always known the core of who John is, but has had twenty years to test him by putting him into trying situations and sending him down some dark roads. Today, both men have come through more confident, more whole.If I had to guess, I’d say Michael has learned almost as much about John in the past twenty years as he’s learned about himself.

And that, my friends, can mean nothing but good things for us, the patient readers anxiously waiting for the thirteenth, fifteenth, or even twentieth John Jordan book, and beyond.

To Michael Lister I would say thank you, for so many things.

To you, the reader, I would also say thank you, on Michael’s behalf. Each and every one of you is appreciated greatly, I know. Your enthusiasm for his work drives him to create.

Here’s to another twenty years of John Jordan, and may we all be a little more like him in our own way.

Aaron Bearden

11/30/16

Land of Blood and Honey

By Enrique Fernández

I knew a guy once who whenever he was asked where he was from would reply, “Grover’s Corner.” To anyone who didn't figure out the ruse, it sounded familiar, except that, where was that town? It was, it is, Thornton Wilder’s fiction from his famous play Our Town. I had the same experience with the town in the first John Jordan novel by Michael Lister. Pottersville. I knew that place. Why, I think I've been there. Many times.

Usually around Christmas. Pottersville is what Frank Capra calls his also fictional Bedford Falls in the film It's a Wonderful Life when the angel shows a suicidal George Bailey what his hometown would become if he'd never existed, a nightmare town filmed using all the atmospheric tricks of film noir. What better name for a town in a violent crime thriller like Power in the Blood, the first John Jordan novel that, like Capra’s movie, deals with the transcendent theme of redemption?

Twenty years into the John Jordan series about a crime-solving prison chaplain, Lister no longer fictionalizes the town’s name, his own hometown, but calls it by the unpronounceable Wewahitchka. It was in Wewa, as everyone calls it, that I met Michael Lister’s work and the author himself. An article in a local electric company mailer told me about a crime novel set in the town, written by a Wewahitchka writer of some renown, though unknown to me. I read it.

Wewahitchka, a one-streetlight town in the Florida Panhandle, had already enjoyed its fifteen minutes of fame, in Ullee's Gold, a 1997 film by Victor Nuñez, who sets all his work in the Panhandle, starring Peter Fonda in an award-winning role as a Wewa beekeeper—the town is home to artisanal Tupelo honey. Many scenes were filmed locally. But Lister, born into a well-established Wewa family, goes deeper. For me, the thrill of reading A Certain Retribution, the Lister novel I first encountered, was how everything happened in places I knew: the bar, once a bikers’ hangout called, precisely, The Bar, but now renamed and less raffish; the houseboats on the river; the one coffee shop in town, where Lister gives himself a cameo appearance. It was not a John Jordan book, but it was certainly a crime thriller, set right here in my new hometown.

The Story Continues on BooksBarbecue!

Enjoyed this preview? ❤️ Do not stop here!

Read the complete book free online → 🔗

Continue reading now on BooksBarbecue and discover every page!

Love reading? Bookmark BooksBarbecue.com for more amazing books!

Happy Reading!