Writing Guns Responsibly

 

It’s another week in America which means another mass shooting perpetrated by a moron with an AR-15. Yes, this is an argument for gun reform and unqualified gun control. We simply cannot continue to bury babies—that have to be identified by DNA testing because of the severity of their wounds—and call ourselves a free and secure society. 

Mostly, though, it’s about how we treat guns in our stories, be those stories books, television, or movies. It’s not just a question of responsible writing but credible, practical employment of the gun as a device. Not as the Magical MacGuffin of Manhood.

None of that practical stuff for us, we want BIG PENI—uh, guns, big powerful black…you know what, never mind.

There were earlier examples of gun pimping in service to story but the most blatant remains the Dirty Harry movies of the 1970s. Prior to Clint Eastwood’s “most powerful handgun on earth” speech, (that seems to go on for 10 minutes) almost all American police carried some version of Smith and Wesson revolver, chambered in .38 Special. The Model 10, with a four inch barrel (for uniform police) was sufficiently deadly, cheap, lightweight, and reasonably easy to master. Plain-clothes police carried the Model 10 or Model 36 (same caliber) with a two-inch barrel. It’s important to note that those guns were what the TV cops carried, too. 

Cool for about 15 minutes, then heavy AF

After Harry Calahan’s speech and white-male-wish-fulfillment of “blowing away” bad guys, (minorities and hairy hippies) with his Model 29, .44 magnum. ALL the police, on TV and real life, wanted big guns. They quickly figured out what Eugene Stoner (the designer of the AR-15) knew. To accomodate the large/powerful bullet, the Model 29 had to be a large/HEAVY handgun. Even without the ridiculous six-inch barrel the Model 29 is uncomfortable to carry. The powerful recoil means a much slower recovery time to fire again. The .44 magnum fad faded quickly.

“You took my gun. Not cool…” Don Johnson as Sonny Crocket, Miami Vice

Fast forward a few years to the cocaine wars of the early 1980s when Medellin Cartel enforcer Jorge “Rivi” Ayala gunned men down with full-auto machine pistols. His rivals did the same. However, the police were NOT equipped in the same fashion...until Miami Vice became a hit. Then, cops around the country wanted drop-guns just like on TV. 

Including Houston Police Patrolman Scott Tschirhart. While on trial for his THIRD killing, (of an unarmed black man) one of Tschirhart’s fellow cops testified that he knew Tschirhart would be a problem when the rookie showed off an AR-15 that he carried in his patrol car. The grand jury declined to indict Tschirhart but HPD Police Chief Lee Brown fired the killer. Oh, Tschirhart also carried a 10mm handgun, just like Sonny Crocket.

There are many other examples of gun porn in popular media: Lethal Weapon, Die Hard, any number of Death Row music videos. But the net effect is the same: white guys in the 1970s wanted the gun that Dirty Harry carried. In the 1980s, young/hip dudes wanted the Beretta that Riggs/McClane carried. In the 1990s, bad-boys wanted the AK-47 that Ice Cube referenced and white bad boys wanted the AR-15 that Chris Shiherlis shoots up L.A. with in the movie Heat. 

Life may/may not imitate art but books damn-sure imitate movies 

Robert B. Parker’s private investigator, Spenser, begins in 1973, carrying a Smith Model 10 .38 Special. He also makes fun of Clint Eastwood’s gun antics. But by the 1980s Spenser carries a Colt .357 magnum and then in the 1990’s a Browning .9mm. Parker wanted to keep Spenser timely. Instead, his irreverent P.I. reads distinctly like a Dad, dying his graying hair patent-leather black to impress the young women working at his office.  

But if Parker is flirting, Thomas Harris is full-sexual-enuendo macking. From the acute detail of Will Graham’s Bulldog to Clarice Starling’s custom 1911s, to Evelda Drumgo’s MAC-10, Harris devotes fetish-level detail to the guns. By contrast thriller writer, Frederick Forsyth, eschewed firearm-erotica in The Dogs of War. But then Forsythe had been a war correspondent and saw net-results up close. 

Lost in the flash

Horrific wounds and mutilated bodies, profane, even on the battle ground are obscene in the classroom and the playground and the supermarket and the church meeting. Those gaping holes, shattered bones, and pulped organs are the net-effects produced by weapons of war. That is left out of the books, TV shows, and movies. Crit-groups and development editors will tell you flat-out, that kind of detail repulses readers.

So, who does it well

In his excellent How to Rob an Armored Car, Iain Levison takes the vulgar excesses of Michael Mann’s Heat, and turns it into the dirty-joke that it is. Mitch is a fired retail worker and the ringleader of a group of stoners, (including a laid off short-order cook and an ex-con dog walker). He comes up with the idea of robbing an armored car, only to realize that if he could afford an AR-15, he wouldn’t need to rob anything. Also, Levinson “gets” it that guns misfire, bullets, ricochet and sometimes, the “good guy with a gun” gets it tragically wrong.

John Sanford’s Lucas Davenport/Prey novels are a mixed bag. Sanford alternates between pornography-grade descriptions of Lucas Daven’s guns to Dale Capslock’s anonymous “black automatic.” In Shadow Prey, he edges right up next to the consequences of our love affair with guns and our absolute coke-binge obsession with automatic weapons. Sadly, he retreats to the safety of righteous violence and white men who are quicker on the draw, (with bigger/better guns) saving the day.

Predating Sanford but with a greater reach, Donald Westlake, (aka Richard Stark) lets the reader’s imagination do the heavy lifting. Rarely, (I only recall one instance in twenty-odd books) did Westlake name a gun. He treats guns as tools, necessary for a heist story, but never the story.

I’ll be glad when you’re dead…

I get the importance power in brand-association with characters and have written about the same. When George Pelecanos writes, (it’s never a cigarette or a car but always a “Marlboro” or a “Mustang”) I take notes. Still, when Louis Armstrong sings that he’s gone to the pawn shop to get his gun, we know all we need to know about the man and we each have a mind's-eye picture of that gun. We don’t need to see the make, model, and finish.

So, what’s the point?

Can we, as writers, stop the carnage? Probably not. I mean, an 18-year-old boy bought two, (2) AR-15 assault rifles from a gunshop previously investigated for trafficking ammo to Mexican drug cartels and Texas politicians are scapegoating the school over an unlocked door. If it begins to look worse, they’ll no-doubt blame the dead kids next. 

We certainly cannot affect change individually. But books, movies, television shows, popular music, and even video games are all written by someone. And each one of us “someones” can shape the narrative.

My violent crime novel was to be published this year. Due to health issues, that will not happen. The upside is it gives me a second beat to re-exam what I’ve written. There’s some troubling spots in there. Does that mean it becomes Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood? No. There will still be violence, some of which will include guns.

However, some unintentional gun-promotion and perverse gun-sploitation will be excised from my work.

Writers can refocus the conversation, one word at a time. We owe it to the kids who will never read our work. We owe it to the audience who should never be the bull in the ring, suffering for our clumsy-matador-esque attempts at drama.

The photo above is not mine. Its use here, for educational/instructional purposes is covered by the Fair Use Doctrine.