HOW I CAME TO WRITE THIS BOOK by Pascal Marco

Signed copies available from www.poisonedpen.com

As of lastmonth, my debut thriller novel, IDENTITY:LOST has been available in Hardcover and Kindle versions. To say I’m excited is an understatement.  This journey has been one remarkableserendipitous event after another.

I’ve hadfun quoting Oprah’s “There’s no such thing as a coincidence”mantra and I will tell you I have fully embraced this belief with Lady O. She has been the world’s #1 proponent (besides my own personal life coach andwife, Karen) of the belief of intention. I believed that imagination was bestleft to children and seldom harnessed in adulthood.

Then itall changed about five years ago.

Things startedto happen that felt coincidental but had a distinctly stronger message for methan just mere happenstance occurrences.   The first was when Iattended Game 5 of the 2005 ALCS Championship when the Chicago White Sox (amajor theme in IDENTITY: LOST)  visitedthe Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.  If the White Sox won this game thenthey would be playing in their first World Series in 46 years. Chance got meand a friend not only into a game when we were told no tickets were availablebut had us sitting in the opposition owner’s box seats with his family.
  

The White Soxwon and that event spurred me on to write a story about it. That story turnedinto half-a-dozen more I wrote over the next year on a White Sox fan web site.By this time my desire to write had been rekindled and I began to think aboutthis story I had locked away, figuratively and literally, for overtwenty-five-years.  Back in the ’70s when I was a young father, a boy hadwitnessed a murder and decided to come forward as a witness.  But,tragically, his desire to do good turned into a life-changing situation;one not so good for him and his family.

Pascal signs at The Poisoned Pen on  August 8th, at 7pm

At the time ofmy “light bulb moment,” I had recently sold my business, which provided me witha very modest profit, not enough to retire on but enough to possibly giveme a brief amount of time to not have to work full-time, at least for a year,maybe two. I took that time to find my notes I had kept along with newspaperclippings about that story only to find that after moving a few times overthose 25 years I had misplaced the documents.  The power of the Internetand the help from a friend’s daughter who attended a Chicago university,allowed me access to the Chicago Tribune’s historical archives.

I plungedheadlong into finding the details of that crime that had beencommitted along the shores of Lake Michigan in Burnham Park. Along theway, I discovered this rich, long forgotten history of the area where the crimewas committed. That took me down another road and re-ignited my love ofhistory, especially local Chicago and American history.  I was completelyhooked and spent every moment I could researching and writing and reading.

It was at aboutthis same time I stumbled upon a brochure (yes, a printed brochure) inviting would-be writers to jointhe Scottsdale Writers Group, which held its meeting every other Tuesday.I was now back to work, keeping afloat a fledgling Internet business I hadstarted on the side and this was taking up the majority of my time. But I wastoo deep into my pledge to myself to not quit on this dream of writing this story.So, with some trepidation, I walked into the group one day and announced I’dlike to join.  I was welcomed with warm smiles but more so by such anunselfish group of people who were willing to help me (as well as themselves)develop their writing skills and story ideas.

After two yearsof bringing in a new chapter every other week, I was done, and my novel (withthe working title “The Murder of Manny Fleischman–Last of the BlackSox”) was complete.  How naive I was because from that point forwardthe real work had only just begun.

That was inMarch, 2008 and about two months later I had another serendipitous event occurthat would change my life forever. I was summering in Lake Geneva, Wisconsinand one day saw another small little poster at the local Fontana, WisconsinPublic Library announcing that NewYork Times best-selling author Brad Thor would be signing hislatest book.  I had never heard of Brad Thor but I knew I had to go tothis event. When would you ever expect to meet a NY Times best-selling author in Fontana,Wisconsin?  So with my wife and brother-in-law in tow, we went to meetMssr. Thor. 

It was a verysmall book-signing for his latest book, THEFIRST COMMANDMENT, but that fact gave me an opportunity tospeak with Brad.  I told him I had never heard of him but that as abudding writer I felt compelled to meet a real author, let alone a best-selling one. The words gracious and warm don’t dojustice to describing Brad’s demeanor with me that day and when he found out Ihad a completed manuscript he immediately recommended I attendThrillerFest in NYC. He promised me if I attended to “look him up”and he’d be happy to help me in any way he could.

Pascal with fellow author Douglas Preston.

“IDENTITY: LOST by Pascal Marco is a grand slam of a novel, swift and sure and true to life, with spot-on characters, an evocative setting, and a relentless plot swirling around the brutal killing of the last surviving member of the Chicago Black Sox team. Imbued with a deep love and understanding of the South Side of Chicago, homicide cops, and the history of baseball, this novel is as true as it is gripping. Don’t miss it!”– Douglas Preston, co-author of The Monster of Florence and Fever Dream

When I got tomy computer and investigated this event, I was blown away at the cost. Of course,it was less than two weeks away and putting a last minute trip to NYC for anevent of this magnitude added to the financial challenge. Wewere stretching dollars (squeezing a more appropriate word) at this pointand as far as I was concerned, if there was a definition of a trip wecould not afford, this one was it.  But my partner and best friend, mywife Karen, scoffed at me, dismissing the idea of not going.  “Heinvited you, didn’t he?” she reminded me.  “If you really wantto get this manuscript publish you have to go.”
Well, that wasjust the beginning. 

I went toThrillerFest in July 2008. I paid the last minute airfare, booked the mid-townManhattan hotel, sent in my non-member attendee fee, landed at La Guardia, andhailed a cab. And here I am now, getting to see my novel on bookstore shelvesacross the country.

There are nocoincidences anywhere in this tale. It is just a story of a naive guy who grewup on the southeast side of Chicago who always kept believing even someone likehim could make his intentions come true.