Crime Fiction Dossier (Old)

A few updates...

My review of Duane Swierczynski's excellent The Wheelman ran earlier this week in the Philadelphia Inquirer. I've talked about the book before, but this is my formal take on it. Obviously, I liked it a lot.

There are a slew of new reviews over on Mystery Ink, including several UK books critiqued by Fiona Walker, plus a review of Randall Hicks' The Baby Game by Yvette Banek.

On the novel (and Bet) front, I have modest progress to report. I'm up to 50,000 words, so it's a little more than half done. I think Guyot's written "Once upon a time..." but that's about it.

In other writing news, the short story anthology that Guyot and I are putting together now officially has an agent representing it. Considering that Ken Bruen has already written his story (and yes, it's excellent), I hope we're able to place the book somewhere.

I started reading debut thrillers for the ITW Awards. (I'm one of the judges for Best First Novel.) I've plowed through about 8 so far. I'm probably not supposed to comment on them publicly, so I won't say much. It hasn't been the strongest year for debuts, though, I'm sorry to say.

That's it for now. Let me know if there are any books I need to read or authors I need to write about. I'm always looking for good ideas to steal.

Last word on Bouchercon; Latest column

For the final word on Bouchercon, from me anyway, I refer you to my round-up article in the Kansas City Star. This is the first time I've written for them and I think the piece came out nicely. (You have to register or else use bugmenot.) Getting newspapers to run coverage of book festivals and the like is extremely difficult, so hats off to KC!

Meanwhile, over at the Chicago Sun-Times, you can see my latest column, which includes books from David Morrell, Theresa Schwegel, Karen E. Olson, Jeff Abbott and Sean Rowe.

Happy reading!

Marilyn Stasio takes on Chick Lit

Over the weekend, Marilyn Stasio wrote a long, critical piece about Chick Lit mysteries in the New York Times. Sarah Weinman predicted that it would generate a lot of controversy, but as Lee Goldberg points out, little has emerged so far. (Susan McBride did offer her backhand commentary over at the Lipstick Chronicles.)

I was on vacation when the article hit, so let's give it a shot now...Stasio wrote:

Slim stories. Joke titles. Juicy jacket art. Does a pattern begin to emerge? For a category of mystery still relatively new to the market, the babe book has already settled into some fairly narrow grooves. Even if you ignore the generally deplorable level of the writing (which is surely an unintentional aspect of the formula), these novels scrupulously observe all the basic chick-lit conventions: the giddy girls in their glamorous jobs, the shopping sprees and fashion makeovers, the gossipy friends, the disastrous dates and the wry comic voice of a heroine so adorable she could be...you.

Stasio generates more interest with her non-reviews than any other critic. After damning the "babe book" as a whole, she goes on to discuss several specific examples in only the vaguest of terms. The glories of writing for the New York Times -- no matter what you do, people pay attention.

I suppose Stasio will now forever be branded a gender traitor for so openly criticizing a genre of books written primarily for and by fellow women, but she does make a couple good points as well.

Just as is the case with the PI novel, too many chick lit mysteries have already fallen into familiar patterns and clichéd tropes that everyone would be better off avoiding. (I wrote a semi-tongue-in-cheek piece about this a while back.)

As with any genre (or sub-genre), the best writers will bend the conventions and traditions of that genre to tell fresh and entertaining stories in new and different ways. Unfortunately, many Chick Lit mysteries seem to be written more with a eye towards the eventual marketing than out of an artistic urge to tell a story.

Since this corner of the genre is very popular right now, publishers are rushing to fill the marketplace with product, and eager authors are more than happy to comply. That doesn't mean that all of the books, or even most of them, are any good, though, and it would be wrong not to point that out.

I read many of the novels that Stasio discusses in her piece and some of them are genuinely awful. On the other hand, a few of them are quite good; books that I enjoyed and was impressed by and said so in my reviews. All of this just points out how dubious a proposition it is to attempt to review a genre as a whole.

On the upside, coverage like that is great ink, the kind that money can't buy. If I had a chick lit mystery, Stasio could call it "a huge stinking pike" and I'd still be grateful to have it included in her column.

Roger Ebert 1, Rob Schneider 0

Roger Ebert, my colleague at the Chicago Sun-Times and favorite film critic, nails Rob Schneider with his scathing review of Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo. Referring to the first film in the series, Ebert writes:

The movie created a spot of controversy last February. According to a story by Larry Carroll of MTV News, Rob Schneider took offense when Patrick Goldstein of the Los Angeles Times listed this year's Best Picture Nominees and wrote that they were "ignored, unloved and turned down flat by most of the same studios that ... bankroll hundreds of sequels, including a follow-up to 'Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo,' a film that was sadly overlooked at Oscar time because apparently nobody had the foresight to invent a category for Best Running Penis Joke Delivered by a Third-Rate Comic."

Schneider retaliated by attacking Goldstein in full-page ads in Daily Variety and the Hollywood Reporter. In an open letter to Goldstein, Schneider wrote: "Well, Mr. Goldstein, I decided to do some research to find out what awards you have won. I went online and found that you have won nothing. Absolutely nothing. No journalistic awards of any kind ... Maybe you didn't win a Pulitzer Prize because they haven't invented a category for Best Third-Rate, Unfunny Pompous Reporter Who's Never Been Acknowledged by His Peers."

Reading this, I was about to observe that Schneider can dish it out but he can't take it. Then I found he's not so good at dishing it out, either. I went online and found that Patrick Goldstein has won a National Headliner Award, a Los Angeles Press Club Award, a RockCritics.com award, and the Publicists' Guild award for lifetime achievement.

Schneider was nominated for a 2000 Razzie Award for Worst Supporting Actor, but lost to Jar-Jar Binks.

But Schneider is correct, and Patrick Goldstein has not yet won a Pulitzer Prize. Therefore, Goldstein is not qualified to complain that Columbia financed "Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo" while passing on the opportunity to participate in "Million Dollar Baby," "Ray," "The Aviator," "Sideways" and "Finding Neverland." As chance would have it, I have won the Pulitzer Prize, and so I am qualified. Speaking in my official capacity as a Pulitzer Prize winner, Mr. Schneider, your movie sucks.

Thanks to Lee Goldberg for the tip. Best review I've read all year.

Latest Chicago Sun-Times column

My latest column ran this morning in the Chicago Sun-Times. (I should have a article in there next Sunday, too: an interview/profile of Libby Fischer Hellmann.) Today's piece includes reviews of 5 books:

Tess Gerritsen: Vanish
Zoe Sharp: First Drop
Terrill Lee Lankford: Blonde Lightning
Lee Goldberg: Diagnosis Murder #5: The Past Tense
Clea Simon: Mew is for Murder

The paper recently reorganized their book coverage, so I don't have as much space to work with as I used to. I'm still doing my best, though, to cram all the content in there that I can.

Missing in Action: out-of-print books

Frank Wilson (my editor at the Philadelphia Inquirer) recently wrote a blog post about out-of-print books and neglected authors that inspired me. He wrote:

It has been estimated that 99 percent of all the books ever published are out of print. Certainly, enough people want to read out-of-print books to make for a thriving second-hand book business.

A couple of Sundays ago I wrote about a book that's out of print: John O'Hara's Sermons and Soda-Water. I was surprised at how many people sent me emails about O'Hara and what I had to say about him...

The response to my column about O'Hara encourages me to continue writing from time to time about books no longer in print, and about neglected authors. Aficionados of used-book stores are just the sort of people to have favorite neglected writers. So if any of you read this, let me know about them.

Again, I am convinced that the literary blogosphere can bring about a seismic change in critical outlook. We just have to get the conversation going.

I have decided to do something similar of my own. Thus, I will soon launch a new series called "Missing in Action," where I will write about favorite books of mine that have gone out of print. (Feel free to share some of your favorites as well.)

What effect the blogosphere can have at resurrecting these lost titles, I have no idea. I suspect it's probably small. But at least we'll have tried.

Look for the first entry in this series soon: Robert Ward's Red Baker.

Post apologies for John Irving review

The Associated Press reports today that the Washington Post has apologized for a negative review of John Irving's new novel that they ran last month:

Irving's Until I Find You, an 824-page novel based partly on the author's relationship with his father, was panned in a July 10 review by Marianne Wiggins as a "mass of lazy, unrefined writing."

Wiggins, herself a novelist and National Book Award finalist, also declared that "The story reads as if Irving woke from a recurring nightmare and started dictating compulsively."

Wiggins wasn't the only reviewer to dislike Irving's book, but she was likely the only one once married to author Salman Rushdie, a longtime friend of Irving's. Noting that he had a personal relationship with Wiggins, Irving complained to the Post, which requires critics to sign agreements that "any contact, friendly or otherwise, with the author of this book" should be disclosed to the paper.

In an "Editor's Note" published Sunday, the Post stated: "Had we known that Irving had dedicated one of his earlier novels (A Son of the Circus) to Marianne Wiggins' ex-husband, Salman Rushdie, and had we known that Irving and Wiggins had socialized with each other in the past, we would not have made the assignment.

"We apologize to our readers for this misstep."

Having written for the Post, I remember that contract they make you sign. (They're the only newspaper that has required me to do that.)

It definitely raises a few eyebrows to have a novelist review a book from a good friend of her ex-husband, most importantly because she apparently didn't disclose that to her editor. (I'm a little surprised, though, that they didn't know already. These are hardly unknown people in question here.)

Now if they'd just apologize for another hatchet job they published: the "review" of George Pelecanos' last book by Maya Angelou's son.

Joe Queenan on The Hillary Book

Joe Queenan, the "Look how funny I am, ma!" non-book-reviewer, has finally found a book that is deserving of his attention: Edward Klein's The Truth About Hillary.

To suggest, as the talented John Podhoretz did in The New York Post, that this is "one of the most sordid volumes I have ever waded through" is to raise serious questions about Podhoretz's sordid wading experiences.

As an expert on sordid nonfiction, I would not put The Truth About Hillary anywhere near the top of my list; it pales by comparison with Geraldo Rivera's sublimely vile autobiography, Exposing Myself, and seems demure, nuanced and levelheaded by comparison with masterpieces of partisan venom like the 60's cold-war classic None Dare Call It Treason.

No, I am not suggesting that Edward Klein is a fair, balanced, persuasive, scrupulously honest reporter or a gifted writer. Resorting to chilling Rip Van Winklisms like "Bill and Hillary often grooved the night away at Cozy Beach, spinning the latest Jefferson Airplane platters," Klein sometimes sounds like a cryogenically preserved Maynard G. Krebs. Like, dig: the cat is far out.

What I am saying is that if Klein purposely set out to write the sleaziest, most derivative, most despicable political biography ever, he has failed both himself and his readers miserably. The Truth About Hillary is only about the 16th sleaziest book I have ever read. Though, in fairness to the author, reading creepy, cut-and-paste books is my hobby.

Granted, it's a waste of time (and previous review space) for the New York Times to have someone like Queenan cover a book that is so obviously a huge, stinking pile. But at least this time he was funny. (Thanks to Sarah for the tip.)

I've been misquoted!

I was at the bookstore today looking over the new paperbacks to check for any blurbs from my reviews. (Yes, I do that. Gotta stroke the ego somehow, right?) I found one on the first page of the mass market edition of Jack Kerley's The Hundreth Man.

"A cracking debut." --Chicago Sun-Times

Okay, cool. Always nice to see my words in print. Only problem is, I didn't write that. What I actually wrote was "The Hundredth Man is a crackling debut."

Crackling. Not cracking. I was saying that the story is "lively, energetic, intense." It's a good thing. If you're a Brit, saying something is "cracking" is likewise a compliment. I'm not British, though, nor do I flavor my reviews with English slang. I am not, after all, an affected ponce.

You'd think the publisher would have someone who checks on stuff like that. Of course, maybe it was just a typo. I don't know which would be worse.

Whether it's "crackling" or "cracking," though, The Hundredth Man is a good book, so I recommend it to you either way.

How books get chosen for review

One of the things I try to write about on here, since it seems of interest to readers (especially readers who are writers), is how I select the books that I review.

In the past 2 days, I had reviews of 7 different books appear in various places. Here is how those books were selected:

• One was assigned to me by the editor. (The reason he chose that book was because it was a local author.)
• One was by a local author. (Note: book review editors always like to feature local authors.) I also reviewed this author’s previous book, which will often motivate me to come back for more, assuming I liked the first one.
• One was written by an author whose blog I read, who had emailed me a while back telling me she had a book coming out. Reviewers can’t review your book unless they know it exists, which is why it’s essential to get the word out.
• One was written by an author I met at a conference where she told me about her book and made it sound interesting. There’s no better way to convince someone to read your book than to tell them face-to-face and make it sound good.
• One was by an author whom I’ve never read before, but who has a growing reputation in the crime fiction world that I thought I should give a try.
• One was by an author who seemed buzz-worthy and likely to get some attention, and thus would be of interest to readers to know if the book was any good.
• One was a book in a series that I love and wanted very much to write about, so I sought out an outlet for the piece.

Of the 7 reviews, 1 was the result of an assignment, 5 were the result of an ongoing gig, and 1 was the result of me seeking out the work. That represents a fairly typical trend in my reviewing. Most of the books I write about are my own selection, and I often hunt down an outlet for a particular book that I want to write about.

Of the 6 books that I selected myself, I would say that 3 of them were as a result of the author's efforts, 2 of them as a result of the publicist's efforts, and 1 of them as a result of the book itself. (I'm referring here to the decision to read the book, not to review it. The reason I reviewed each of these books is because, after having read it, I thought I had something interesting to say about it.)

As you might have noticed, it also doesn't hurt if you're a woman.

My thoughts on the new Harry Potter

I have officially joined the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy™, with my first piece for National Review: an assessment of the new Harry Potter book, written for National Review Online.

If you're opposed philosophically to clicking through to a conservative publication, allow me to summarize: I enjoyed the book a lot, believe that J.K. Rowling is a great talent in the tradition of Tolkien, and think the series is set up for a smashing finale in Book 7.

Review Double Play

Another double play for my reviews this morning. First up is a piece on Bill Kent's Street Fighter (St. Martin's Minotaur) in the Philadelphia Inquirer, which I wrote quite a while ago and is finally running today.

Second is my latest column in the Chicago Sun-Times, featuring a handful of books:

J.A. Konrath - Blood Mary (Hyperion)
Kate White - Over Her Dead Body (Warner)
Jennifer Colt - The Butcher of Beverly Hills (Broadway)
Alafair Burke - Close Case (Henry Holt)
Sandra Scoppettone - This Dame for Hire (Ballantine)

The selection runs the gamut from the light to the serious, so there should be something for everyone in there. Enjoy!

Better late than never

There's a common practice in the reviewing profession that only new books get written about. Once a novel has been on the shelves for a couple of months, it's considered old news and is very unlikely to get any new ink.

Thus, it was nice to see that the New York Times ran a review today of a book that came out a few months ago, but is certainly deserving of all the attention it can get:

MORE THAN THEY COULD CHEW. By Rob Roberge. (Dark Alley/HarperCollins, paper, $13.95.) Nick Ray, the hipster narrator of ''More Than They Could Chew,'' knows a thing or two about sexual practices worthy of anthropological study -- a hilariously sick romp with his girlfriend (involving a rather unusual use for a Gummi Bear) is accidentally turned into a fetish-porn video. He's a lowlife and proud of it: an alcoholic night clerk at a dead-end hotel in Long Beach, Calif., he picks up extra cash restocking coin-operated live-bait dispensers. ('' 'Spoilage, that's the problem,' Bondo Bob had said.'') But he does not grasp exactly how far he has sunk until he stumbles onto a stash of old computers with Witness Protection Program data on them, decides to make a fortune off them with a couple of even sleazier buddies, and gets in serious trouble with both sides of the law.

It's a nifty setup, but it builds toward a calamity that never quite arrives -- the book's manic energy slacks off just where the climax should arrive, as the plot gently disintegrates. Still, Roberge stages even the most brutal scenes for nervous laughs, and he has a knack for impeccably grotty details of the demimonde: one of Nick's companions is a disbarred lawyer known as Maggot Arm Joe, thanks to his unorthodox treatment for an IV-drug abscess. Best of all is Nick's studiously masochistic girl friend, Tara, who believes that ''you can get through life with just two lines: I don't know and You're talking to the wrong guy/gal.''

By coincidence, I just read the book this past week, and I found it to be a wonderful, darkly comic, gritty and entertaining story. What I liked best about it, though, was how fresh the story and the writing are.

Do you read book reviews?

As you probably know, I write book reviews. A fair number of 'em, in fact. (The current tally is 25 for the year so far.)

What I don't do is read very many reviews. There are a few reasons for this. One is that I don't want to be influenced by someone else's review of a book that I might be writing about. Another is that I don't have much time for it.

One of the main reasons, though, is that most book reviews don't seem to be very useful. It's hard to find a reliable critic whose taste you can trust, who has good insights, and whose writing you enjoy.

I've never found anyone in the book world who can fill the same fiction that Roger Ebert (my colleague at the Sun-Times) does for movies. His work is always useful, well thought-out, nicely written and entertaining. What more could you want in a review?

There are a handful of crime fiction critics that I try to follow: Sarah Weinman at the Sun, Dick Adler at the Tribune (boo!) and Oline Cogdill at the Sun-Sentinel come to mind. Those three can be relied on to provide well-written and sensible reviews.

Many of them, though, don't seem worth the effort.

Completing the trifecta

My third horse finally came in, although two days late...The Boston Globe runs my latest review today, Guilt by G.H. Ephron.

As a critic who's working on a novel, I'm always curious to see how the competition does. (G.H. Ephron is the pseudonymous writing team of Don Davidoff and Hallie Ephron, mystery critic for the Globe.)

In this case, the results were pleasing. Chalk one up for the good guys/girls.

Review Double Play

My work graces the pages of two newspapers this morning, I'm pleased to say.

The first is my monthly column in the Chicago Sun-Times and it contains reviews of 6 new books:

• Joseph Finder: Company Man (St. Martin's, $24.95)
• Denise Hamilton: Savage Garden (Scribner, $22)
• James O. Born: Shock Wave (Putnam, $24.95)
• Charlotte Carter: Trip Wire (One World, $12.95)
• Naomi Hirahara: Gasa Gasa Girl (Delta, $12)
• Theresa Monsour: Dark House (Putnam, $25.95)

The second is my latest piece for the Philadelphia Inquirer, this one a review of David Hiltbrand's very funny satire of the music industry, Deader Than Disco (Avon, $6.99).

(I was hoping for the even rarer Review Trifecta, but it looks like the Boston Globe bumped me back another week.)

Latest Philadelphia Inquirer review

My latest review ran this morning in the Philadelphia Inquirer. The book is Craig Johnson's The Cold Dish, which I don't really remember much about, other than I was a little disappointed by it. (I wrote this piece at least a couple months ago.)

Latest Chicago Sun-Times Column

My latest column ran this morning in the Chicago Sun-Times. It contains reviews of a slew of new books, including:

David J. Walker - All the Dead Fathers
Harley Jane Kozak - Dating is Murder
Sarah Strohmeyer - Bubbles Betrothed
Charlie Stella - Cheapskates
Jodi Compton - Sympathy Between Humans
Reed Farrell Coleman - The James Deans

All in all, a good batch of books, other than Bubbles, which I didn't care for.

Review of George Pelecanos' Drama City

The latest book from George Pelecanos, one of my favorite authors, has just hit the streets and my review is now up on Mystery Ink.

Pelecanos has one of the strongest voices in the crime fiction genre, a powerful narrative style that people either seem to love or hate. (I love it.)

Although I didn't care as much for his last book (Hard Revolution), Drama City is another winner.

If you haven't yet read this gifted author, this book is a great place to start.

More on Kent Harrington

In case you missed my review of Kent Harrington's terrific new book (Red Jungle) in the Chicago Sun-Times over the weekend, I have just posted the full-length version on Mystery Ink.

This is an entertaining and powerful story that deserves to be read. I promise, you won't be disappointed.

Check back soon to see my interview with Kent!

Latest Chicago Sun-Times Column

My latest column ran in the Chicago Sun-Times this morning, containing reviews of 5 excellent books, including one that might just be a masterpiece:

• Kent Harrington - Red Jungle (Dennis McMillan, $30)
• John Donohue - Deshi (St. Martin's Minotaur, $23.95)
• Neil McMahon - Revolution No. 9 (HarperCollins, $15.95)
• Michael Robotham - Suspect (Doubleday, $24.95)
• Duane Swierczynski - Secret Dead Men (Point Blank, $15.95)

If you have a chance, please take a look. I think you'll enjoy it.