When
Ali Hussein—suspected terrorist and alleged banker for Al Qaeda—is finally
transported from Gitmo to the US mainland to stand trial, many are stunned when
Byron Carlos Johnson, pre-eminent lawyer and the son of a high-profile diplomat,
volunteers as counsel. On principle,
Johnson thought he was merely defending a man unjustly captured through
Rendition and water-boarded illegally. But Johnson soon learns that there is
much more at stake than one man’s civil rights.
Hussein’s
intimate knowledge of key financial transactions could lead to the capture of—or
the unabated funding of—the world’s most dangerous terror
cells. This makes Hussein the target of corrupt US intelligence forces on one
side, and ruthless international terrorists on the other. And, it puts Byron Carlos Johnson squarely in
the crosshairs of both.
Pulled
irresistibly by forces he can and cannot see, Johnson enters a lethal maze of
espionage, manipulation, legal traps and murder. And when his life, his love,
and his acclaimed principles are on the line, Johnson may have one gambit left
that can save them all; a play that even his confidants could not have
anticipated. He must become the hunter among hunters in the deadliest game.
WHY MAKE THE TRANSITION FROM BUSY LAWYER
TO NOVELIST?
More basically, why exit from a business
with a good regular paycheck to a business where the financial rewards are
uncertain? Why exchange a suit for a
casual shirt and jeans? I get asked
these questions a lot, and they are in fact questions I ask myself.
Let's start with a disclaimer. I haven't entirely abandoned the practice of
law. This is work I've done for more
than thirty years, and old habits die hard. Besides, I like it. More important
is the fact that the legal work I do provides fuel for the novels I write. A criminal case or even a civil lawsuit
involves a story, a narrative. Part of
the function of a lawyer is to shape the narrative -- not to fabricate facts
but to tell a story.
Creating fiction, however, does give me
a license to do more than just shape the narrative of a case. In writing a novel I have the ability and the
incentive to weave imagined events together, to create personalities and
personal histories, to generate intrigue and conflict. In practicing law, I’m confined by facts --
and those facts can be extremely interesting given the nature of the work I do
-- but there are no such constraints in writing fiction.
There's another factor. Law is a highly regulated business. No matter how independent you may be as a
lawyer, there are people known as judges.
They require you to do specific things on their schedule, not on yours. They want you to do things their way, not
necessarily yours. They tend to have
outsized personalities -- wearing a robe can transform a guy or gal who in
civilian clothes is demure and shy into a muscled-up action figure. And there are also clients. They get to call you in the middle of the
night.
The external controls on fiction-writing
are different. Sure, an editor can set
"deadlines" but those are more goals and aspirations rather than
drop-dead dates. You can be disbarred
for missing a judge-imposed deadline if you do that too often. The worst a publisher can do is get mad at
you.
But the most important reason for
transforming myself into a novelist from a practicing lawyer is the beauty of
transformation. The stuff of a
novelist's life is different from the stuff of a lawyer's life. Creating novels is a liberating experience; you
can let loose your imagination. I find I
can have a passion and a drive that, even though I’ve loved practicing law, I
can't completely tap into in a courtroom. You hear commencement speakers
constantly delivering to young graduates the trite mandate to "follow your
passions." As you move through
life and hit the jarring realities of jobs, families and obligations, you can
get cynical about those conventional admonitions to follow your passions, live
out your dreams, and fulfill your talents.
But those inspirational messages do have
meaning, at least for yours truly. Even a lawyer can break out of the
constraints of the life he or she has lived.
There is something invigorating, even for a seasoned adult, in taking
risks and having the courage to give up security and embrace something unknown,
strange, exciting -- fresh.
About the Author
Paul
Batista, novelist and television personality, is one of the most widely known
trial lawyers in the country. As a trial attorney, he specializes in federal
criminal litigation. As a media figure, he is known for his regular appearances
as guest legal commentator on a variety of television shows including, Court TV, CNN, HLN and WNBC. He’s also appeared in the HBO
movie, You Don't Know Jack, starring
Al Pacino.
A
prolific writer, Batista authored the leading treatise on the primary federal
anti-racketeering statute, Civil RICO
Practice Manual, which is now in its third edition (Wiley & Sons, 1987;
Wolters Kluwer, 2008). He has written articles for The New York Times, The Wall
Street Journal, and The National Law
Journal.
Batista's
debut novel, Death's Witness, was
awarded a Silver Medal by the Independent Book Publishers Association (IBPA).
And his new novel, Extraordinary Rendition, is now being published—along with a
special reissue of Death’s Witness—by
Astor + Blue Editions.
Batista
is a graduate of Bowdoin College,
where he was elected to Phi Beta Kappa,
and Cornell Law School. He’s proud to
have served in the United States Army. Paul Batista lives in New York City and
Sag Harbor, New York.
Sounds like a terrific premise, Paul!
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