Saturday, 11 January 2025

The Story Behind the Story with Author Eve Koguce of Jurmala, Latvia, Europe.

 

Let’s welcome our first guest from the beautiful country of Latvia.



I met Eve through mutual author friends and was drawn to her stories.

She has accepted our invitation to share the good news about her novel. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.

Read on my friends.


  

I’ve been blessed to be born in the best place on the planet. My hometown, Jurmala in Latvia, is a seaside town on the coast of the Baltic Sea with an endless sandy beach. Riga, the capital of Latvia, is the city rich with history and extraordinary architecture. Riga has the largest number of splendid Art Nouveau buildings in the world.

I guess that living surrounded by the beauty of nature and history ignited a creative spark in me. But still, it lay dormant for a long time. I’ve been an avid reader since the age of five. My parents didn’t have to read to me before bedtime for too long, for I quickly snatched the book from them and asked them to leave me alone with reading. I started writing poetry when I was a teenager and also attempted to write a novel. But being a ‘good girl’, I didn’t pursue my passion for writing after school graduation. I spent fifteen years trying to fit into the office work pattern. And although I was feeling miserable and out of place every day of that climbing the ladder process, I managed to build a relatively successful career after an ambitious shift from the private to the public sector. The job I had wasn’t boring. It was actually pretty exciting. I worked with internationally funded projects and met people from all over the world every day.

After my son was born, I had a unique chance to stop and rethink not only what I’d achieved so far, but what I really wanted from life. I made a decision to leave my old life behind, and I’ve never regretted it.

Since then, I published six books. Please visit my website to discover more about my novels. Link is below.

 

Title: “The Accidental Cop”

 


Synopsis:

What if to have food on your table every day, you have to cross the line? Cheat, take bribes, and grovel before people in position of power and influence? Welcome to the “savage 90s”… A personal hell of Roberts Bergs.

To succeed you must play by the rules. Roberts learns the rules quickly. The system run by the Soviet-era ex-militia officers is a good teacher. Who you know counts for more than your abilities, qualifications, and knowledge. The system also doesn’t tolerate disobedience.

Roberts Bergs had to start making difficult choices early in life. With few options to choose from, he settles for available ones. Beggars cannot be choosers, is his motto.

His coursemates at the Police Academy dip their toes into adulthood while still living in the cocoon of their parental homes. For them, life is about parties, new experiences, and searching for their true self. For Roberts, it’s about poverty, hunger, and not being killed by a crazed drunkard with an axe during a patrol shift.


A patrolman of the Public Order Police patrol battalion isn’t Roberts’s dream job. But it is better than not having one. Trudging through the grim slums of the city, his interest in arts, history, and literature is what sustains him.

He believes in human dignity and freedom of choice. He wants to become a lawyer.

Despite the resistance from his superiors, Roberts keeps climbing up the career ladder. The contrast between those who play by the rules and those who believe in honesty and justice becomes starker. Luxury and self-indulgence for the first, and dragging out a miserable existence for the latter.

Is it worth it to remain true to his principles? Or is succumbing to the corrupted and merciless system the only way to survive?

Set in Latvia at the end of the first post-Soviet decade, named by pop culture as the “savage 90s”, “The Accidental Cop” is a blend of noir crime and police procedural with psychological suspense elements.

The ”Accidental Cop” has won several literary awards:

- Honorable Mention award in the 2023 Royal Dragonfly Book Awards contest / Fiction Novel category;
- Finalist award in the Pacific Book Awards contest 2023 / Best Thriller category;
- Finalist award in the Readers’ Favorite Book Award contest 2024 / Fiction Crime category.

 


The Story Behind the Story:

"The Accidental Cop" is set in Latvia at the end of the first post-Soviet decade. The decade branded by pop culture the ‘savage 90s.’ In Latvia, many remember that decade as the craziest time of their lives. Some managed to grab the chances to start making money through all kinds of illegal schemes. Not all of them got away with it. Still, those who did climbed even higher. By the arrival of the new millennium, they were respected businessmen, and their influence spread wide. Even into the law enforcement authorities.

In 1998, the population of Latvia was 2.41 million people. More than half of them lived in poverty. Dry figures provided in official reports hide family tragedies and countless lost and wrecked lives.

At times of transition, old rules don’t apply while new ones aren’t yet established. Because of that, the 90s were the decade when criminals flourished. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, people were free to start private businesses. But due to holes in the legislation and the overall chaos, you had to pay for “protection” to keep your business running. And the guys who collected the money had effective persuasion methods for those who refused to agree to the rules.

Once, the bell at our door rang. My aunt – Mom’s older sister – and I were in the kitchen. Mom went to see who came. We heard an unfamiliar man’s voice. My aunt went to the corridor in case Mom needed help. I trailed after her.

The man stood at the doorway – Mom didn’t let him in. Before leaving, he looked at my aunt and me and turning back to Mom said: “Bring the money or I’ll cut off your kid’s and your mother’s heads and bring them to you.”

At those times, it was incredibly difficult to keep hope that life can change. And a lot of people didn’t live long enough to see that it actually did.

“We never knew what it was like to be hungry.” Mom once dropped this phrase, years after the worst time had ended. She added that it was thanks to my aunt – Mom’s older sister – and her extraordinary, almost magical, land cultivation skills. In good years – harvest isn’t the same every year – we had a ton of apples and a ton of cucumbers. And this apart from all kinds of berries, potatoes, carrots and I don’t remember what else.  I never knew hunger. I never thought about us not having enough food. So, Mom’s words hit me like a bullet. Mom said that because of Aunt’s excellent cooking skills, we didn’t even notice that for months, our menu consisted almost solely of four ingredients: potatoes, carrots, beetroot, and zucchini.

Roberts in “The Accidental Cop” knows what hunger is. And what it does not only to your body. Still, he doesn’t give up. This is what a reader says about Roberts in their review: “He crawls until he can walk, and walks until he can run. He shows the immense and unimaginable courage it took to survive his circumstances, by taking things one hour, one day at a time, surviving one hour, one day at a time. He clings to hope, and his personal integrity and honour, like a drowning man, until he can potentially surface into a brighter future.”

“The Accidental Cop” gives readers the chance to get a glimpse of what it was like to try to survive in the savage 90s in post-Soviet Latvia. In a way, this book is a tribute to those who either hadn’t lived to tell their stories or, after the grim times ended, preferred to leave them behind.

When I started writing “The Accidental Cop”, I was certain it would be the only story set in the savage 90s that I’ll ever write. Those were dark and sad times for many, including my family. Still, now, after the book is published, I realise that the material I’d collected while doing research is enough for a few more stories. People shared their memories about the most controversial decade of Latvia’s modern history with me. And I feel the inspiration to interweave these memories with fiction to draw a picture of that wild decade on the pages of my books.



 Website: Please go HERE.



A question before you go, Eve:


Scribbler: Where is your favourite spot to write? Are you messy or neat? Your beverage of choice?

Eve: I can’t answer with a description of a picture-perfect, Instagram-style, cosy nook where I can write in silence, enjoying the free flow of inspiration and creativity. Alas, the reality, as it is so often, is a little harsher than retouched images on social media. Having said that, I won’t deny that I like my practical arrangements for writing. I usually write in the kitchen, and my laptop – with a huge monitor my husband brought me so my poor eyesight doesn’t suffer more than it is absolutely necessary – sits on the table hand-crafted by a dear friend of my beloved late Mom especially for her.

I am boringly neat, and my working table is never messy. Yet, it isn’t due to my high standards, but rather because, as I mentioned earlier, my worktable dabs as a kitchen table – or it’s probably the other way round – and it’s impractical to spend time clearing the mess several times a day when my family gathers for a meal.

During the day, I drink copious amounts of tea – Rooibos with orange and cinnamon or with honey and vanilla is my favourite choice of late. I have a cup of coffee after waking up and also after lunch.






An Excerpt from "The Accidental Cop"



******

They found a gruesome scene. Still, if it was a crime scene or an accidental tragedy display remained to be determined.

The operational group got to work, and soon, the place resembled a staged movie set ready for filming a detective story. Everyone moved about efficiently, performing the actions according to their duty list just as actors would play their roles.

The only person who distorted the general picture of professional diligence was Zalamans Kohs, the forensic medical expert of the Latvian State Police Central Authority Forensic Department. He mumbled while doing what he was supposed to do, not trying to suppress a whistle of surprise, a chuckle, or a hiccup – whichever impulse was appropriate to demonstrate a reaction of his body or mind.

“What a waste, what a waste,” he muttered under his breath, fussing over the dead bodies it was his job to examine and identify the reasons for their turning into such, “isn’t it always a waste? Of course, it is. Even if you were a poor bastard whom no one would miss, it’s still better if you had lived. Yes, yes, life is sacred…Life is a gift….”

Roberts entered the basement that the police had been called to check after he, Edgars, and the forensic team ensured the place was marked as a crime scene and the interest from neighbours ran dry. Edgars refused to go down to look at the bodies saying it wasn’t his job and he wasn’t interested.

It wasn’t the adrenalin from the macabre sight that drew Roberts in. He didn’t feel any looking at the remains of what used to be a living creature with hopes, dreams, and people who cared about them. His interest wasn’t purely professional, either. He didn’t see himself examining yet another crime scene in five years. Still, his life was now connected with crime and investigation. He had recently passed a Criminal Forensics exam successfully. It was a unique opportunity to compare theoretical knowledge with practice, even if the subject wouldn’t have been his first choice for testing if he had one.

Koha kungs[1],” Roberts greeted the forensic medical expert respectfully. He didn’t have to feel the smell to know Zalamans’s breath betrayed alcohol consumption. The not-so-faint vodka aroma was an inalienable part of Zalamans Kohs’s image, and one which he did nothing to distance himself from. If it was a coping mechanism or an indulgence, Roberts didn’t know. It was a fact, though, that Kohs was the best forensic medical expert in the country, and not a single superior officer would accept a complaint about his drinking. So, nobody ever thought of complaining, and Kohs’s permanent inebriated state was treated more like an oddity rather than a protocol violation.

“Oh, good day, young man!” Kohs raised his head from the dirty tabletop he was examining with absorbing intensity. “What a pleasure to see an intelligent face among this…,” Kohs cast a glance around the dirty, sordid space, his face incredulous as if he had just seen it for the first time, “…chaos.”

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.”

“The fact that you’ve thought about it at all means you aren’t.” Kohs turned away and made a wide gesture with both hands. “Tell me, what do you see? Never jump to making assumptions before you’ve looked at the crime scene properly. Never mix the order. First, watch carefully. And only then – think.”

Roberts looked around the basement.




Thank you for being our guest this week, Eve. I now have a copy of this book and am looking forward to reading it. We wish you continued success with your writing.



And thank you to all our amazing visitors and readers.

Don’t be shy. Leave us a comment below. TY.










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