Book Blitzes/Promo Posts

Book Spotlight + Guest Post: A Spark of Justice by J.D. Hawkins

It’s time for another book spotlight, and this one in particular caught my attention instantly. Why, you ask? Well, interestingly enough, J.D. Hawkins actually has experience living with the circus! I can’t think of better field work for a book than that.

A fatal accident at the circus sparks an insurance investigation that leads John Nieves, a former New York cop, to a list of murder suspects. It seems that The Great Rollo, beloved of millions, had enemies… both at the circus and among his own family.

All that is surreal and magical about the circus brings out Nieves’ deepest fears, blinding him to the very real danger that is closer at hand. A bizarre series of revelations and coincidences keep Nieves’ suspicions of the circus people high, even after the actual evidence suggests that the incident really was only an unfortunate accident.

The furtive actions of Rollo’s wife and brother, the beneficiaries of his insurance, lead Nieves into even dirtier family secrets. Apparent attempts on his life from all quarters threaten Nieves, but he refuses to drop the case until the whole truth of who killed The Great Rollo is revealed.

Interested? I thought so! I’ll leave you the links below to procure this book for yourself. Before you leave though, please enjoy a fabulous guest post by J.D. Hawkins! I found this riveting, and I do believe that you will too.
Find it at:



Talking the Talk: Carny and Circus Lingo in
Fiction

J.D. Hawkins
Once upon a time, in my misspent youth, I
was hitchhiking the coast in California (back when people used to do that sort
of thing without worrying about serial killers) and took a deviation to
Sacramento. Why is irrelevant to this article; I did a lot of random things in
those days and was following an address written on a scrap of paper.
During my time in the state capital, I
learned that the carnival was in town and things were happening at the
Sacramento Fairgrounds. I decided to pay a visit, but not the entry fee. Like
the good anarchist hippy hitchhiker I was, I went over the fence.
By a fluke, I soon found myself talking to
a seasoned carny on the site and he suggested that I join the show. Green help
was common enough on a spot and they needed a few people to run the permanent
rides on the fairgrounds, which were kiddie rides. The idea suited me. There
was something about the carny set up that appealed to my free spirit. They paid
in cash, didn’t ask questions and people could come and go when they wanted to
between spots. Employment on tap! I might mention that I was sixteen and that
became my first job. California laws being what they were, my parents had
police looking for me, technically a runaway, and a place where I could make
myself invisible appealed to me in a big way.
When the Sacramento Fair finished, I left
with the carnival. We played spots up and down California in small towns like
Merced and Hayward, usually just a few rides and joints (games) on a spot, with
just one food wagon so we wouldn’t starve. During that time, I learned about a
way of life that would stay with me for the rest of my days. I became carny,
and once a carny, always a carny. Because I was young, the old timers
effectively mentored me in the ‘rules’ and lingo once I had become one of them
by traveling.
Turn the clock ahead to 2015, and suddenly
the indie publishing industry has enough books about circus and carny life to
make it a genre. The trouble is, a lot of the writers have never been inside
the worlds they depict and horror of horrors, haven’t done even minimal
research to learn the difference between a circus and a carnival, how things
work or even the languages inside the amusement business. The thing is, if they
had used Google to try to learn some of the lingo, they might easily have been
led astray.
Out of curiosity, I recently did a search
to find out if a list of carny terms had been put online. What I found was
interesting and extensive, however, many of the terms in a long glossary I
found had fallen into disuse decades before I ever touched carny soil and some
of them were wrong. I could see two possible reasons for the latter; the writer
who had composed the list for a book got his information from east coast
carnies. Language has a way of developing differently in distant places and the
terms might have evolved with slight variations.
The more likely possibility, based on my
experience of carnies, is that some of them were intentionally skewed so that
anyone trying to pass themselves off as carny who hadn’t walked the walk would
be exposed by mistakes when they tried talking the talk. Think about it, is a
closed society going to give away all its secret signals to the general public?
One of the things I learned early in my experience of carny life is that the
occasional runaway teenager was the least of reasons why carnies might take on
a nickname and want to become invisible to society. I never knew whether some
of my brothers in the biz might have been prison escapees or serious criminals.
Part of the code is that you don’t ask. Not for real names, not for history or
reasons for joining the carny. You take people as they are, stick to the rules,
and watch yourself. Instinct means a lot when you spend half your nights
sleeping under the stars or inside a ride.
So how is a writer supposed to crack a
highly defended barrier and get inside carny life to write a story? The first
and most important thing any writer needs to remember when using the amusement
business for a setting is that the circus and the carnival are completely
different entities. The terms are not interchangeable. All one has to do to get
this straight is to think back to one’s own childhood. Did your parents ever
take you to the local fair? What did you see? Rides and games, food wagons, and
if it was a big county fair, local farmers showing off crops and animals in the
part that kids don’t want to go because they want to get back to the rides at
the carnival.
That’s a carnival. Rides, games, food. The
only thing the carnival has in common with the circus, apart from the fact that
they both travel, is the type of food available. Hot dogs, cotton candy,
everything sweet and greasy that western society has taught us goes with amusement
culture. You might see a clown design painted on the outside of a dark ride,
but you won’t see any actual clowns or other performers. That’s what you find
in a circus.
Circus life is relatively ‘clean’ compared
to the carny. It’s performance oriented so you’re dealing with professionals
rather than the flotsam that drifts to the carny. The circus has a Big Top, the
tent where the main performances happen. There is no Big Top on carny grounds
unless someone has booked a few carny rides to set up next to a circus for a
major holiday event. Within the Big Top, performances happen in rings. A small
circus may have only one ring, or if you go to a big show like Ringling
Brothers and Barnum & Bailey, they might have as many as three rings.
It’s here that you’ll find live clowns,
acrobats, trapeze artists, possibly animal acts, though protection laws are
tightening up on those. As an aside, despite my depiction of a lion tamer act
in A Spark of Justice, I actually agree with animal protection. Big cats
were not meant to live in cages, even fairly spacious ones. As much as I loved
seeing these magnificent animals as a kid, as an adult with a conscience I cry
for their captivity. I can reconcile a well designed zoo because of the
breeding programs saving species of tigers and other endangered cats from
becoming extinct, as long as the enclosures have plenty of space and as close
to a natural environment as is possible for the animals.
A writer who wants to use amusements as
their setting absolutely must get these differences into their head if they
want any sense of realism. I have to hand it to Stephen King for his handling
of the material in Joyland. His setting was a stationary amusement park
and most of ‘the talk’ came from a character with a hazy past in the amusement
business. I speculated when I was reading this book that he might have worked
for both circus and carny at different times in his past. Best of all, King
explained in his afterword comments that he made up a few terms of his own
which specifically fit that particular amusement park.  That actually added even more realism because
language is organic and grows independently in a closed environment. He got the
spirit of the usage right and the terms fit the needs of his setting.
For most writers, my advice would be that
less is more. Pick a few terms and make sure you’re using them right. In the
carny, a customer is a mark. In the circus, he’s a rube. Some old time carnies
might use the term rube, but unless your setting is 1940s or before, leave that
one for the circus. The games are called joints and the people who run them are
jointies. An old term for ride jockey is pig iron. The glossary I saw had this
as the name for the ride itself. This might be a historic usage, but I suspect
it’s one of the terms that was deliberately told wrong to the chronicler. Old
terms for specific games have mostly fallen out of use. By the 1970s we used
simple terms like dime pitch that any mark would understand.
If you want to write a book in a carny
setting, this is enough. Trying to be too clever will only trip you up. If
you’re writing in a circus setting, I suggest doing extensive research. Look up
instructions for becoming a lion tamer, like I did before writing A Spark of
Justice
. The details of how the cats are trained will make all the
difference. Read the literature for taking lessons from a clown school, search
for instruction to become a trapeze aerialist. It’s easily available. If you
don’t want to do all this, don’t try to write from inside circus life. You can
still use a circus as a backdrop for rube characters. But if you can, at least
go to a circus one day and remember what it feels like and smells like, what
you’ll see and experience. This can give your story realism.
If you’re using a carny setting, there’s
likely to be a town fair, even a small one, somewhere near you during the
summer. Go hang out for a few hours and if possible, get into conversations
with the people working the rides. Not the green help (locals doing it as a
temp job), but the greasy looking old timer who will try to talk you up if
you’re a pretty girl. Get him talking about carny life, like you’re considering
it, or be honest and tell him you’re a writer. Just be aware that honesty will
cost you details. It’s more likely to make a carny clam up than to try to set
you straight.
Stick with just a few terms and concentrate
on developing your characters and you shouldn’t go too far wrong, as long as
you don’t forget the difference between a circus and a carny. The reader doesn’t
have to be an ex-carny to notice when it’s wrong.




Many thanks for such a great guest post, J.D. Hawkins!

Remember friends, go get your copy!