conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled In Good Faith about Writers, Tragic, Paris with the genre: Biographies & Memoirs, Arts & Literature.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "Writers often affect toughness and soul through leather jackets, whiskey and cigarettes. Tragic poses. the author, the real deal, ignores this crowd and hustles down the streets of Paris and Chicago, flexing his boxer's hands and his poet's soul. His writing is dark and swift, and it will hit you hard. You'd better have a good cut-man in your corner if you're going to step in the ring with this book." Luis Alberto Urrea, author of Across the Wire and Nobody's Son
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Tragic poses. the author, the real deal, ignores this crowd and hustles down the streets of Paris and Chicago, flexing his boxer's hands and his poet's soul. His writing is dark and swift, and it will hit you hard. You'd better have a good cut-man in your corner if you're going to step in the ring with this book." Luis Alberto Urrea, author of Across the Wire and Nobody's Son
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first two paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In Good Faith
  Eight men and four women. A dozen citizens filing slowly past the defense and prosecution tables beneath the stern scrutiny of a white-haired judge. All wore the dazed look of people who've been forced to sit for days in a place they'd never been, listen to the words of men and women they'd never seen, and pass judgment on a fellow human being.
  The defendant, a wiry man named Billy Dockery, stood next to his lawyer at the defense table as the jury filed past. Dockery was gangly and in his mid-thirties. His dark hair snaked past his shoulders, framing a flat face that had maintained a perpetual smirk throughout the two-day trial. He wore civilized clothing—a dark gray suit, white shirt, and navy blue tie—but I knew he was anything but civilized. Beneath the veneer was a cruel and dangerous sociopath.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Judge Langley picked the diary up off the table and began to read: " 'I got my first paycheck today. Bill made me suck his thing in the bathroom before he would give it to me. He shot his stuff all over my face. He is really sick. I wish I could quit but we need the money so bad so I just try to imagine that I am floating on a cloud until it is over. I made over four hundred dollars. I gave half of it to Jeanine to help with food and rent and stuff like that and I am keeping the rest. I need to get a car as soon as I can so Jeanine will not have to pick me up every day. I should have enough by the time I am old enough to get my license.' "
  He turned and started shuffling slowly towards the door, his huge, rounded shoulders slumping forward, the soles of his shoes making a swooshing sound as he dragged them across the carpet. When he got to the door, he paused.
  The transfer hearing in juvenile court for Levi Barnett was straightforward and uneventful. Fraley and a couple of TBI lab experts took the witness stand and laid out the evidence we had against him—his shoes perfectly matched footprints left at both crime scenes, and his fingerprints were on both of the guns found in Boyer's glove compartment as well as on the steering wheel of the Becks' van. Fraley had sent the prints from the van to AFIS early on, but Barnett's prints hadn't made it into the system. The judge, after a short speech, surrendered jurisdiction to the adult court. Barnett, swarthy, stocky, acne scarred, and dressed in a pair of jail-issued orange coveralls, sat stoically through the hearing. He didn't utter a sound, not even to his court-appointed lawyer.
  The following Wednesday, Boyer and Barnett were scheduled for their first public appearance in criminal court. Barnett was to be arraigned again, this time as an adult, the judge would appoint him another lawyer, and a trial date would be set.
  As I drove towards the courthouse in Jonesborough early Wednesday morning, I passed a convenience store about a quarter mile from the courthouse. In the parking lot less than thirty feet from the road, someone had constructed a gallows. Hanging from the two nooses were dummies with bright white faces, black wigs, and black clothing. I knew both Boyer and Barnett would pass the spot on their way to the courthouse from the jail, and I took some small pleasure in thinking about their reactions.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: We walk out to the courtroom, and I take my seat at the prosecution table. Beaumont goes straight to the podium as his client steps through the bar and walks up to be arraigned.
  The elderly woman Billy Dockery has attacked and robbed is in a coma, but this time he cut his hand breaking into her house and left his blood at the scene. Dockery is charged with attempted first-degree murder, burglary, and theft of over five thousand dollars.
  Heartfelt thanks to my mother-in-law, Ann Hodge, who propped us up when the advance money was thin but the future looked bright.
  Thank you to Phillip Spitzer, Lukas Ortiz, and Luc Hunt for working so diligently on my behalf, and thanks to Renni and Ross Browne at "The Editorial Department" for helping me get up and running and getting me through Phillip Spitzer's door.
  Humble thanks to Kristen Weber and the crew at NAL, all of whom have been wonderful to work with. I've learned so much, and hope to continue.