by Kasey Lansdale
We all know him.
He has the office in a building downtown, his name on the frosted glass. No money, no friends–a lone wolf. Widowed or divorced. Not to mention he has a drinking problem. But don’t worry, he has a dog, so we know that deep down, he’s a good guy.
These are the classic tropes of PI fiction.
When I began writing First Chance, I realized quickly I wanted to offer a nod to all of these clichés, but found it was also important to step away from these ideas to create space in the narrative. One of the ways I opted to do this was for my lead character Chance to never use a gun.
A PI novel without guns?
The characters are Texan and one of the leads is law enforcement. Because of that, I wanted to go against the stereotype of what someone might expect when first hearing about where the story takes place and with who. None of this was a morality clause on guns themselves.
Though part of it was a conscious decision of who the character was, it was also a mechanism as an author to not set myself up for having to top her actions over and over again. If every problem can be solved by a bullet, the element of her being in danger feels less immediate. Once your protagonist kills someone, there is an illusion of invulnerability.
It’s one thing to give someone an ass whooping, it’s quite another to take a life. Unlike a lot of investigator fiction, Chance is established with support from the start. Her stakes are real because the people around her depend on her. If she were to take a life, she would put her best friend in law enforcement in a difficult position, and risk her ward being taken away.
When I started deconstructing the classic PI and their motivations, I realized oftentimes they were driven by a shame that moved the plot forward. I didn’t want to burden Chance in this way and instead, gave these addictions to the people around her. Though Chance is tough and has seen dark parts of the world, she is still young and therefore in her own way, naïve. It felt like keeping a gun out of her hands made for better character development and most importantly, room to grow.
I wanted her to have her problems, but I didn’t want her to be broken by them. In fact, I think her nuanced view of justice is what makes her most interesting for me to write. She knows right from wrong and though surrounded by all kinds of folks who might make her question the shades of these ethics, her moral center remains true north.
The old joke with actors is, “What’s my motivation?”
But I think it can be just as important here.
Since this story is told from first person point of view, I wanted everything, even the bad stuff, to have that lens of Chance’s integrity. Why she is the way she is. Not accepting or condoning certain behaviors, but an intricate look at why pulling a gun would change who she is as a character.
Traditional PIs tend to be lovable messes who have done in many instances, unspeakable things, and yet we give them a pass. While granted, this is fiction, I didn’t want to allow these tropes and their familiarity to lower the stakes for Chance. Not having a gun readily available meant I had to think in a different way about how far she would go to protect herself, and where the line is. Training, street smarts, and in some cases a different weapon gave me an opportunity as an author to understand how Chance could be more flexible in moments of duress.
That said, the dog stayed because I love dogs, and some things aren’t to be messed with.
I don’t believe this made for a gentler book, though others might disagree. The hardboiled private eye is a fantasy character. A tough guy who always gets the dame. But in the world of Hopeful, Texas, choosing to give my lead an alternative to drawing a gun allowed more room for the story I was trying to tell, and hopefully, the opportunity to see who Chance becomes in the future.
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