Musings: James Lee Burke

The other day I came home from the used book store with my husband, who lugs to the store a sack of books and lugs home a sack of books. I found one of my favorite authors on the shelves, James Lee Burke, and came home with one book, one of a series which I seemed to have overlooked as I’ve read Burke’s Dave Robicheaux novels faithfully.

Nearing three quarters finished, I found myself contemplating Burke’s writing style, comparing it with the philosophy I’m reminded of one critique meeting to the next. A writer/editor of my critique group would find Burke’s style goes against all her rules, short sentences, open every chapter with gun fire and keep descriptions plain and simple. Not Burke, he uses run-on sentences, opens chapters with thought or place, and is an artist at description.

I love it! He builds suspense by getting us into his characters’ heads, tells us what they see before them and around them, and how they feel about what they are about to do or are doing, which finally drives all the characters toward the stand-off. He gives them lives with histories that they cannot quite escape, built upon novel after novel. So I’ve come to this formula: setting is delicious dressing, the characters are the meat, and the plot is the bowl that holds the story together. Thank you James for years of breath sucking anticipation and wonderful, tormented characters.