Hoping to repeat the qualified success of last year’s “World’s Favorite Detective” tournament (which finished with Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch on top), blogger Jen Forbus has posted her first set of match-ups in a competition to choose the “World’s Favorite Amateur Sleuth.” Among the 64 nominees, selected by readers of Forbus’ blog, are Craig McDonald’s Hector Lassiter, Harlan Coben’s Myron Bolitar, Joan Druett’s Wiki Coffin, Lee Child’s Jack Reacher, Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody, and Timothy Hallinan’s Poke Rafferty.
Click here to vote for your favorites. You have until Saturday, March 12, to let your preferences be known.
READ MORE: “Why Do We Love Amateur Sleuths?” (Mysterious Matters).
Monday, March 07, 2011
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Are You Being Served?
From a lively blog called Bookride comes a list of really dumb questions overheard in bookstores. Anyone who’s ever worked in such a shop (my own stint was at the Barnes & Noble in Santa Monica) will smile at these:
“I’d like to order a brand new copy of this out-of-print book ...”
“Where do you keep the books you don’t stock?”
“How do you make a living out of this lot of old rubbish?”
“Have you anything on sixteenth-century oak coffee-tables?”
“We’ve got so many books at home, we’ve no room for any more! We’ve got one shelf on the landing and another under the stairs!”
“I don’t know what it’s called and I don’t know who wrote it, but the girl on television had long dark hair.”
There’s lots more fun to be had in Bookride, including this related post.
EDITOR’S NOTE: My own personal favorite, heard at a fine shop in Seattle, was delivered this last Christmas by a woman who’d been looking up and down the bookcases for a while before approaching the salesperson. “Excuse me,” she said, “but you had a book in the window about six or eight months ago, and now I’d like to buy it. Do you remember what it was?” -- JKP
“I’d like to order a brand new copy of this out-of-print book ...”
“Where do you keep the books you don’t stock?”
“How do you make a living out of this lot of old rubbish?”
“Have you anything on sixteenth-century oak coffee-tables?”
“We’ve got so many books at home, we’ve no room for any more! We’ve got one shelf on the landing and another under the stairs!”
“I don’t know what it’s called and I don’t know who wrote it, but the girl on television had long dark hair.”
There’s lots more fun to be had in Bookride, including this related post.
EDITOR’S NOTE: My own personal favorite, heard at a fine shop in Seattle, was delivered this last Christmas by a woman who’d been looking up and down the bookcases for a while before approaching the salesperson. “Excuse me,” she said, “but you had a book in the window about six or eight months ago, and now I’d like to buy it. Do you remember what it was?” -- JKP
Fan Favorites
Well in advance of the official announcement, Boston author Dave Zeltserman let it be known back in January that his second Julius Katz story, “Archie’s Been Framed,” had picked up first place honors in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine’s 2010 Readers Choice poll.
Now author-blogger Evan Lewis offers us the complete list of winners, taken from the magazine’s May 2011 issue:
1. Dave Zeltserman, “Archie’s Been Framed” (September/October)
2. Doug Allyn, “The Scent of Lilacs” (September/October)
3. Doug Allyn, “Days of Rage” (March/April)
4. Lee Goldberg, “Mr. Monk and the Seventeen Steps” (December)
5. Brendan DuBois, “To Kill an Ump” (September/October)
6. Clark Howard, “Winter’s End” (December)
7. Clark Howard, “Last Dance in Shanghai” (June)
8. Evan Lewis, “Skyler Hobbs and the Rabbit Man” (February)
9. Stephen Ross, “The Man with One Eye” (December)
10. Carol Biederman, “The Changelings: A Very Grim Fairytale” (November)
Congratulations to all 10 EQMM contributors.
Now author-blogger Evan Lewis offers us the complete list of winners, taken from the magazine’s May 2011 issue:
1. Dave Zeltserman, “Archie’s Been Framed” (September/October)
2. Doug Allyn, “The Scent of Lilacs” (September/October)
3. Doug Allyn, “Days of Rage” (March/April)
4. Lee Goldberg, “Mr. Monk and the Seventeen Steps” (December)
5. Brendan DuBois, “To Kill an Ump” (September/October)
6. Clark Howard, “Winter’s End” (December)
7. Clark Howard, “Last Dance in Shanghai” (June)
8. Evan Lewis, “Skyler Hobbs and the Rabbit Man” (February)
9. Stephen Ross, “The Man with One Eye” (December)
10. Carol Biederman, “The Changelings: A Very Grim Fairytale” (November)
Congratulations to all 10 EQMM contributors.
Friday, March 04, 2011
The Book You Have to Read:
“The Dead Lie Still,” by William L. Stuart
(Editor’s note: This is the 114th installment of our ongoing Friday blog series highlighting great but forgotten books. Today’s pick comes from Chicago part-time writer and bookseller J.F. Norris, author of the excellent, recently launched crime-fiction blog Pretty Sinister Books.)
Published in the fall of 1945, only five months after V-E Day, The Dead Lie Still is one of the most violent World War II-era crime novels directly tied to the war that I’ve encountered in my many decades of reading genre fiction. The book foreshadows that postwar paranoia that would pervade crime fiction for decades.
The protagonist and a slew of supporting characters are suspicious of nearly everyone they encounter and are constantly on guard for “the enemy.” And rightly so, for nearly everyone Sam Talbot meets is looking for a fight, and carries a weapon (sometimes two or three) and is ready to use it without questions.
This is a novel imbued with the spirit of the hard-boiled private eye, the loner hero with the tenacity of a lion on the prowl, who craves justice for the wronged and the innocent bystanders who’ve lost their lives in a war that has infected everyday American life. In the first chapter, when Talbot attempts to rescue a man from the burning wreck of a gasoline truck, we realize immediately that here is a guy who will let nothing stop him--let the fire burn, let the threat of explosion loom over him, let his hands endure second-degree burns. Talbot is more like the supermen of the hero pulps than the standard noir private eye. That’s because he’s not a private eye. He’s just a regular joe who happens to have served in the U.S. Navy and is now trying to make a post-service living.
Talbot is a resolute ex-Naval intelligence officer now working as a commercial artist. In The Dead Lie Still (re-released in the 1950s as Dead Ahead), his reputation attracts the attention of FBI agent George Sanderson. Sanderson arranges for a meeting, hinting only that Talbot is perfect for the kind of help he needs. But the next day, when Talbot shows up to receive his mysterious assignment, Sanderson is nowhere to be found. Then Talbot’s apartment is broken into. Apparently, someone thinks he has something of great value. He accidentally enlists the aid of a female poet he met in the same bar where Sanderson approached him. When she volunteers to act as a snoop for him, she endangers her life and sets into motion a game of cat and mouse between Talbot and a group of sadistic, malevolent thugs who seem to double in number like the Hydra each time he eliminates one of them.
As the story progresses author Stuart reveals his patriotic fervor, his loyalty to American military forces, and his disgust over the way most people take enlisted men for granted. One of the best scenes takes place towards the end of the book, when Talbot is picked up by a cab driver named Joe, who is out to protect him from the army of bad guys. They strike up an immediate friendship and the cab driver soon reveals to Talbot why he is looking out for him:
was turned into the 1950 film noir classic, Where the Sidewalk Ends, he took up residence in Hollywood as yet another novelist turned screenwriter. (Stuart’s screenwriting credits include episodes of the TV series 77 Sunset Strip, Bourbon Street Beat, Bonanza, and The Green Hornet.)
This book has stuck with me for a long time now. And having reread it to refresh my memory, I see it in a new light. In the light of three more senseless wars, in the shadow of terrorism, and in the presence of the wounded, limbless men and women who served their time in Iraq and Afghanistan, The Dead Lie Still is even more powerful to a 21st-century reader than it was in its original time of a still raging World War II. Sam Talbot, the superman hero willing to suffer broken bones, busted eyes, burns, and numerous bashes to his skull, is like all the war vets who surround us today--brave beyond measure but never truly appreciated for what they have sacrificed. His descent into a secret world of traitors and villains is a powerful and merciless look at war being fought on American soil, much like what Homeland Security would like us to believe is going on right now. In Talbot’s case it is very real, very dangerous, extremely sinister, and in the end a torturing and sobering nightmare that will remain with him for years to come.
The climax takes place in the creepy town of Tyron, New York, a no-man’s-land of bars and cheap hotels located a few miles from a railroad station. Talbot has tracked down a criminal mastermind who the reader can infer has something to do with military secrets and an underground network of spies. It’s all kind of hazy and it’s all tied to a Hitchcockian MacGuffin in the form of Sanderson’s notebook, with its undecipherable shorthand notes that obviously contain highly important data that should not fall into the wrong hands. A macabre scene in which Talbot confronts the villain--who we see is a helpless amputee being tended to and kept alive by machines and injections--seems more like something out of a weird menace pulp story than an intelligent yet merciless crime novel. Still, taken into context with the whole of the story preceding, I understand why Stuart went this route.
The final paragraphs--which I wish I could reproduce here, but won’t for fear of ruining William Stuart’s chilling coda--are sure to haunt any reader. They have both a poignant resonance and a lasting eerie frisson that make The Dead Lie Still a book you really ought to read. It’s never been more pertinent than it is now.
Published in the fall of 1945, only five months after V-E Day, The Dead Lie Still is one of the most violent World War II-era crime novels directly tied to the war that I’ve encountered in my many decades of reading genre fiction. The book foreshadows that postwar paranoia that would pervade crime fiction for decades.
The protagonist and a slew of supporting characters are suspicious of nearly everyone they encounter and are constantly on guard for “the enemy.” And rightly so, for nearly everyone Sam Talbot meets is looking for a fight, and carries a weapon (sometimes two or three) and is ready to use it without questions.This is a novel imbued with the spirit of the hard-boiled private eye, the loner hero with the tenacity of a lion on the prowl, who craves justice for the wronged and the innocent bystanders who’ve lost their lives in a war that has infected everyday American life. In the first chapter, when Talbot attempts to rescue a man from the burning wreck of a gasoline truck, we realize immediately that here is a guy who will let nothing stop him--let the fire burn, let the threat of explosion loom over him, let his hands endure second-degree burns. Talbot is more like the supermen of the hero pulps than the standard noir private eye. That’s because he’s not a private eye. He’s just a regular joe who happens to have served in the U.S. Navy and is now trying to make a post-service living.
Talbot is a resolute ex-Naval intelligence officer now working as a commercial artist. In The Dead Lie Still (re-released in the 1950s as Dead Ahead), his reputation attracts the attention of FBI agent George Sanderson. Sanderson arranges for a meeting, hinting only that Talbot is perfect for the kind of help he needs. But the next day, when Talbot shows up to receive his mysterious assignment, Sanderson is nowhere to be found. Then Talbot’s apartment is broken into. Apparently, someone thinks he has something of great value. He accidentally enlists the aid of a female poet he met in the same bar where Sanderson approached him. When she volunteers to act as a snoop for him, she endangers her life and sets into motion a game of cat and mouse between Talbot and a group of sadistic, malevolent thugs who seem to double in number like the Hydra each time he eliminates one of them.
As the story progresses author Stuart reveals his patriotic fervor, his loyalty to American military forces, and his disgust over the way most people take enlisted men for granted. One of the best scenes takes place towards the end of the book, when Talbot is picked up by a cab driver named Joe, who is out to protect him from the army of bad guys. They strike up an immediate friendship and the cab driver soon reveals to Talbot why he is looking out for him:
He reached down under his seat and pulled out a slender length of steel weighted with lead at the end. “Protection. We run into some funny things at night. It’s got a little whip to it. Works to beat hell.”Seemingly fueled solely by a combination of rage and alcohol, Talbot becomes a one-man army battling a host of goons, thugs, and pistol-packing mamas. He endures a burned hand, multiple beatings, several bouts of unconsciousness, and a breakfast of three brandy eggnogs. This book is a cinematic wonder with numerous action set-pieces that would make a stuntman drool in anticipation. There are fights with flying furniture, apartments turned upside down, a couple of barroom brawls, nighttime prowlings, and surveillance of the villain’s mansion guarded by lummoxes. It should come as no surprise that after Stuart’s second novel, Night Cry (1948),
Talbot took the weapon. It had a lethal feel.
“Glad I ran into you,” he said.
“So am I,” Joe said. "There’s something I don’t like about these bastards. I got two kids over. Went from Germany right over to the Pacific. I got a funny feeling these bastards ain’t on our side.”
was turned into the 1950 film noir classic, Where the Sidewalk Ends, he took up residence in Hollywood as yet another novelist turned screenwriter. (Stuart’s screenwriting credits include episodes of the TV series 77 Sunset Strip, Bourbon Street Beat, Bonanza, and The Green Hornet.)This book has stuck with me for a long time now. And having reread it to refresh my memory, I see it in a new light. In the light of three more senseless wars, in the shadow of terrorism, and in the presence of the wounded, limbless men and women who served their time in Iraq and Afghanistan, The Dead Lie Still is even more powerful to a 21st-century reader than it was in its original time of a still raging World War II. Sam Talbot, the superman hero willing to suffer broken bones, busted eyes, burns, and numerous bashes to his skull, is like all the war vets who surround us today--brave beyond measure but never truly appreciated for what they have sacrificed. His descent into a secret world of traitors and villains is a powerful and merciless look at war being fought on American soil, much like what Homeland Security would like us to believe is going on right now. In Talbot’s case it is very real, very dangerous, extremely sinister, and in the end a torturing and sobering nightmare that will remain with him for years to come.
The climax takes place in the creepy town of Tyron, New York, a no-man’s-land of bars and cheap hotels located a few miles from a railroad station. Talbot has tracked down a criminal mastermind who the reader can infer has something to do with military secrets and an underground network of spies. It’s all kind of hazy and it’s all tied to a Hitchcockian MacGuffin in the form of Sanderson’s notebook, with its undecipherable shorthand notes that obviously contain highly important data that should not fall into the wrong hands. A macabre scene in which Talbot confronts the villain--who we see is a helpless amputee being tended to and kept alive by machines and injections--seems more like something out of a weird menace pulp story than an intelligent yet merciless crime novel. Still, taken into context with the whole of the story preceding, I understand why Stuart went this route.
The final paragraphs--which I wish I could reproduce here, but won’t for fear of ruining William Stuart’s chilling coda--are sure to haunt any reader. They have both a poignant resonance and a lasting eerie frisson that make The Dead Lie Still a book you really ought to read. It’s never been more pertinent than it is now.
Reads to Remember
In addition to J.F. Norris’ remarks, on this page, about William L. Stuart’s The Dead Lie Still, today’s Web-wide harvest of “forgotten books” posts includes the following recommendations of crime and thriller works: You’ll Get Yours, by Thomas Wills; File on a Missing Redhead, by Lou Cameron; Murder on the Aisle, by Ed Gorman; The Lenient Beast, by Fredric Brown; Final Proof, by Marie R. Reno; I Could Have Died, by George Bagby; Burn, by Jonathan Lyons; The Delicate Storm, by Giles Blunt; Black Hearts and Slow Dancing, by Earl Emerson; Portrait in Smoke, by Bill S. Ballinger; Scend of the Sea, by Geoffrey Jenkins; Blood Hunt, by Neil Gunn; The Last Dance, by Ed McBain; Ms. Murder, edited by Marie Smith; Serrano of the Stockyards, a collection of Anatole Feldman’s short stories featuring Chicago mobster Big Nose Serrano; and the true-crime book A Cold Case, by Philip Gourevitch.
Series organizer Patti Abbott has the full list of today’s participants in her own blog, plus a couple more suggestions of overlooked books.
Series organizer Patti Abbott has the full list of today’s participants in her own blog, plus a couple more suggestions of overlooked books.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Second Shot of Derringers
The Short Mystery Fiction Society was a bit slow about releasing its official announcement of the 2011 Derringer Award nominees for best crime-fiction shorts. The majority of contenders’ names were known on Tuesday. But today’s announcement from the SMFS does bring something new to the table: the previously unknown list of nominees in the Short Story (1,001-4,000 words) category.
Here, finally, are those candidates:
• “My Asshole Brother,” by Eric Beetner (A Twist of Noir, May 7, 2010)
• “Seventy-two Hours or Less,” by Michael J. Solender (A Twist of Noir, April 23, 2010)
• “Broken Down on the Bonneville Flats,” by Jack Bates (Beat to a Pulp, October 17, 2010)
• “Angel of Mercy,” by David Price (Beat to a Pulp, January 31, 2010)
• “Pewter Badge,” by Michael J. Solender (Yellow Mama, August 2010)
The winners in all categories will be announced on March 31.
Here, finally, are those candidates:
• “My Asshole Brother,” by Eric Beetner (A Twist of Noir, May 7, 2010)
• “Seventy-two Hours or Less,” by Michael J. Solender (A Twist of Noir, April 23, 2010)
• “Broken Down on the Bonneville Flats,” by Jack Bates (Beat to a Pulp, October 17, 2010)
• “Angel of Mercy,” by David Price (Beat to a Pulp, January 31, 2010)
• “Pewter Badge,” by Michael J. Solender (Yellow Mama, August 2010)
The winners in all categories will be announced on March 31.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
“Get Some Help”
Part VII of Black Lens, the Ken Bruen and Russell Ackerman story being serialized in the Mulholland Books blog, was posted today.
Open and Shut case
New York-based Open City magazine, one of the best little reads in the business, known for publishing “a dynamic array of poetry and prose with a daring, youthful, spirit,” is closing after 20 years. Luckily for all writers, though, its press release of earlier today reports that “Open City Books, a mere tyke at ten years, continues.” The release recalls:
Starting with its first issue in 1991, Open City has made an important mark on the American literary scene, publishing a slew of debut writers [and] undiscovered posthumous gems,The final, 30th edition of Open City was published in December 2010 and is still available online. It’s 10 bucks well spent, and there’s no postage cost to U.S. customers who order it sent media mail class.and hosting wildly successful readings and parties in New York City and beyond. Not just a publisher, Open City, true to its name, is a vibrant community of writers, artists, and readers.
Highlights from twenty years of the magazine will be collected in an anthology, They’re At It Again: An Open City Reader (June 2011, Open City Books). Featured authors include Richard Yates (an excerpt of a novel he was working on at the time of his death), Irvine Welsh (his story in Open City in 1993 marked his U.S. debut), Mary Gaitskill, Martha McPhee, Robert Stone, David Foster Wallace, Jonathan Ames, and Sam Lipsyte.
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Making the Shorts Cut
I don’t yet see any official announcement of these results at the Short Mystery Fiction Society Web site, but Spinetingler Magazine is reporting a list of nominees for the 2011 Derringer Awards. Here they are:
The list of contenders in a fourth Derringer category--Short Story (1,001-4,000 words)--has still to be announced. There’s also no word yet on the recipient of this year’s Edward D. Hoch Memorial Golden Derringer for Lifetime Achievement.
READ MORE: “Kiwi Writer Stephen Ross Nominated for a Derringer Award,” by Craig Sisterson (Crime Watch).
Flash Story (less then 1,001 words):
• “Blues in the Night,” by Carol Kilgore (Dark Valentine, May 2010)
• “Homeless,” by Patricia Morin (from Mystery Montage; Top, 2010)
• “Stick a Needle in My Eye,” by Julia Madeleine (Powder Burn Flash,
No. 302, May 5, 2010)
• “The Book Signing,” by Kathy Kencharik (from Thin Ice: Crime Stories By New England Writers, edited by Mark Ammons, Kat Fast, Barbara Ross, and Leslie Wheeler; Level Best Books, 2010)
• “The Unknown Substance,” by Jane Hammons (A Twist of Noir, December 27, 2010)
• “Homeless,” by Patricia Morin (from Mystery Montage; Top, 2010)
• “Stick a Needle in My Eye,” by Julia Madeleine (Powder Burn Flash,
No. 302, May 5, 2010)
• “The Book Signing,” by Kathy Kencharik (from Thin Ice: Crime Stories By New England Writers, edited by Mark Ammons, Kat Fast, Barbara Ross, and Leslie Wheeler; Level Best Books, 2010)
• “The Unknown Substance,” by Jane Hammons (A Twist of Noir, December 27, 2010)
Long Story (4,001-8,000 words):
• “A Tour of the Tower,” by Christine Poulson (Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine [EQMM], March/April 2010)
• “Care of the Circumcised Penis,” by Sean Doolittle (ThugLit Presents: Blood, Guts, and Whiskey, edited by Todd Robinson; Kensington, 2010)
• “Care of the Circumcised Penis,” by Sean Doolittle (ThugLit Presents: Blood, Guts, and Whiskey, edited by Todd Robinson; Kensington, 2010)
• “Interpretation of Murder,” by B. K. Stevens (Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine [AHMM], December 2010)
• “Silicon Kings,” by Richard Helms (The Back Alley Webzine, April 2010)
• “The Little Nogai Boy,” by R.T. Lawton (AHMM, September 2010)
• “Silicon Kings,” by Richard Helms (The Back Alley Webzine, April 2010)
• “The Little Nogai Boy,” by R.T. Lawton (AHMM, September 2010)
Novelette (8,001-17,500 words):
• “Deserters,” by Chris Muessig (AHMM, March 2010)
• “Rearview Mirror,” by Art Taylor (EQMM, March 2010)
• “The Gods for Vengeance Cry,” by Richard Helms (EQMM,
November 2010)
• “The Man with One Eye,” by Stephen Ross (EQMM, December 2010)
• “The Scent of Lilacs,” by Doug Allyn (EQMM, September/October 2010)
• “Rearview Mirror,” by Art Taylor (EQMM, March 2010)
• “The Gods for Vengeance Cry,” by Richard Helms (EQMM,
November 2010)
• “The Man with One Eye,” by Stephen Ross (EQMM, December 2010)
• “The Scent of Lilacs,” by Doug Allyn (EQMM, September/October 2010)
The list of contenders in a fourth Derringer category--Short Story (1,001-4,000 words)--has still to be announced. There’s also no word yet on the recipient of this year’s Edward D. Hoch Memorial Golden Derringer for Lifetime Achievement.
READ MORE: “Kiwi Writer Stephen Ross Nominated for a Derringer Award,” by Craig Sisterson (Crime Watch).
Happy Birthday, Robert Conrad
The HMSS Weblog reminds us that today is the birthday of American actor Robert Conrad, the former star of The Wild Wild West, Assignment: Vienna, and Baa Baa Black Sheep. Precisely which of Mr. Conrad’s birthdays this is, though, is apparently a question. Court documents say he was born in 1929 (making him 82), but some publicity releases contend he took his first breath in 1935 (which means he’s 76).
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