By any objective standard, Joaquin Guzman Loera is an evil man who has caused untold suffering for others.
As someone who has researched and written about the Mexican cartels and the futile ‘war on drugs’ for coming on twenty years, I know how tough a subject it is. Mind-bending, soul-warping, heartbreaking, it challenges your intellect, your beliefs, your faith in humanity and God.
You know, I mean this sincerely, you know, I’m so grateful that I get to get up in the morning and do this, you know, and write books.
A great review is great. A bad review is the worst.
I start work at 5 in the morning and I have a wicked insomnia problem.
I would prefer things to be peaceful and not have conflict.
It’s funny because I think that genre literature can be looked down on by literature literature. And I like that! I like being scorned; I like people looking down their noses at us a little bit… It gives us a little chip on our shoulder.
There are various kinds of savagery: emotional, spiritual, economic, and cultural savagery.
The tragedy is that the police and inner city communities should be allies. Who suffers most from violent crime in America? Inner city communities. Who has a personal and professional interest in lowering that violence? Cops.
If Trump was really looking for Mexicans to pay for the wall, he should put in a call to Sinaloa. They’d probably build it for him.
When you criminalize something, only criminals can deal with it. When criminals deal with it, there’s no recourse to law, so there’s only recourse to violence.
I have to remind the people who put down East Coast surfing that Kelly Slater is from Florida.
I was a safari guide in the 1980s in Kenya.
Well, if you’re writing a thriller, you have to have your character in mortal jeopardy on page 1 or it’s not a thriller.
My problem is not that there are too few ideas out there. It’s that there are too many.
The bridge to Coronado Island off San Diego was built because the mob had a hotel there and needed a way to get people out there.
So I thought I should write five pages a day. And that’s what I did. Eventually I had a book.
As a surfer, I think of places like a wave: you see one thing on the surface. But you always know there’s something different going on underneath.
The novelist is the vestigial bone on the body cinema. We’re like the little toe that can be cut off.
I’ve been around the surf culture since I was a kid. I grew up in a beach town in Rhode Island. Then eventually I lived in Dana Point, Calif., a real surf hotbed.
I get started at 5:30 in the morning and write till 10 A.M. Then I hike six or seven miles before going back to work.
Producing words isn’t a problem for me. And I usually write two books at a time. When one horse gets winded, you jump on the other.
I was trying in ‘The Power of the Dog’ to write a brutally accurate in-your-face, if you will, description of 30 years in the war on drugs. And the effect that that had on people.
We always think of borders as something that separates two peoples but of course they unite them. It’s something you have in common, literally.
In the first place, it’s surreal to watch filming, to see the little ideas you had in your head and now Taylor Kitsch is doing it, or Salma Hayek. And then to see it loud and bright onscreen is a trip.
Police work in major cities – and New York is no exception – has always been vulnerable to corruption. Teddy Roosevelt built his career on it.
Police departments are always a reflection of the society that they serve. Is there such a thing as ‘police culture?’ Absolutely. Is that culture isolated form the surrounding society? Absolutely not.
Don’t kid yourself: The justice system is a business. It’s about money.
We have contradictory expectations of police: We want to be perfectly safe and perfectly free. We want total security and total privacy. We want the bad guys stopped and the good guys unmolested. That’s great for the consumer; try providing it.
I lived in mafia neighborhoods off and on when I was a kid. If you were in Little Italy, in East Harlem, in Brooklyn… Those neighborhoods were, in those years, dominated by mafia families. You knew it and you felt it, you know?