This short novel is written by the former Moscow correspondent of the Economist newspaper, which is how I learned of it. It wants to be Gorky Park, but isn’t. Protagonist Nick is a U.K. lawyer working real estate deals in … Continue reading
“Make me,” a schoolyard taunt, is the title of Lee Child’s 20th and possibly final Jack Reacher novel. The first one, “Killing Floor” came out a decade ago (1997) and the series has been on the top of the sales … Continue reading
This little novella is a wonderful train story with a lot of claustrophobic atmosphere and terrific language. I will shelve it with my small collection of “prose poetry,” along with books like Duras’s The Lover, Winterson’s Art and Lies, and … Continue reading
Phoenix, Arizona is not very coastal but Left Coast Crime held its annual mystery and crime-writing conference there recently. The conference’s definition of “coastal” is anyplace west of the central time zone and that includes PHX (mountain time). Next year … Continue reading
I just completed a revision of my detective novel, Desert Justice, and it was major surgery. I took out 5,000 words, dropping the word count to a mere 70,000. Was the detective really so flabby that there were 5K words … Continue reading
A Gentle Crime Novel Abu-jaber, Diane. (2007). Origin. New York: W.W. Norton This novel is in the rarified category of “literary” crime novel, which means the characters are well-developed and the writing is above average (that’s the literary part) AND, it … Continue reading
Writing For the Money Grisham, John (2002). The Summons. New York: Random House. A lawyer in Mississippi finds three million dollars in cash in his father’s house after the old man dies. The money is not mentioned in the will, and … Continue reading
Like a Tarantula on an Angel Food Cake Chandler, Raymond (1940/1992). Farewell, My Lovely. New York: Vintage/Random. “Chandleresque” is a writing style that cannot be matched, though many have tried, even me. Tough guy PI, Philip Marlowe, is the definition of … Continue reading