Girl Missing

The "Messiah War" may be over, but that doesn't mean it's all marshmallows and rainbows for Cable and Hope—as you'll see in these preview pages for Cable #16, out today. Joining Cable is legendary artist Paul Gulacy, and his stuff blew me away from the very first page. Here's hoping you'll check out a copy.

Cable: Kind of a Slut

At least according to Uncanny X-Men.net's X-Men Universe Relationship Chart (via BoingBoing).

Secret Dead Blog Recommends: Hickey & Boggs

A few years ago I became a huge fan of Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, thanks to Terrill Lankford and Michael Connelly. Huge to the point of rewatching it two, three times a year, because I see something new each time. And just a few weeks ago, I was turned on to Night Moves, the Gene Hackman/Arthur Penn P.I. classic, thanks to both Ed Pettit and Lee Goldberg. Now I've found the private eye movie that completes the trilogy (in my own head, anyway): Hickey & Boggs, starring (and directed by) Robert Culp, and written by the legendary Walter Hill.

All three films are essentially about the same thing: the death of the private eye as we know it. Altman called his version of Chandler's hero "Rip Van Marlowe," implying that he took a very big sleep somewhere in the 1940s and woke up in the hazy, lazy crazy days of the early 1970s. In Night Moves, Gene Hackman's Harry Moseby is a little more in step with modern times, but not much. He's hopelessly out of his depth, both metaphorically and literally, within the first 15 minutes of the movie, and he sinks deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

The same goes with Frank Boggs (Culp) and Al Hickey (Bill Cosby, in one of his few... maybe only?... non-comedic roles). They're two private eyes so down on their luck, they have to decide between paying the bill for their answering service vs. the bill for their actual phone. And soon, they're embroiled in a case involving a virtual United Nations of bad guys: slick white Organization torpedoes, Latino bank robbers, and a militant black power group. They're hopelessly outnumbered, hopelessly outgunned. But unlike Marlowe and Moseby, Hickey & Boggs are painfully self-aware about their predictament, and more importantly, their obsolescence. "Nobody came, nobody cares," Hickey says at one point. "It's still about nothing."

Culp and Hill also pack a ton of story into small, spare moments. There's a scene where Boggs goes to see his ex-wife, who is hardly ever mentioned, and it still manages to be one of the most devestating moments of the film. There is no backstory given, no voice-over, no expository dialogue... but it's still all there for you, every bitter painful moment of their marriage, in the little details of their exchange. I can think of a dozen films where a subplot like this has been beaten to death, but none packs the emotional punch that Culp gives you here. And Hickey & Boggs is full of moments like this. The film never spoon-feeds you. It forces you to keep your eyes open.

Okay... didn't meant to turn this into a mini essay or anything. But if you love your private eyes pushed to the point of oblivion, if you think the best crime films were made in the 1970s, and love a good neo-noir that plays out in broad daylight, I very much recommend tracking down Hickey & Boggs. I've heard the DVD is a bit of a muddy mess; I bought a digital copy from iTunes and it's crisp and clear.

(For more on Hickey & Boggs, check out Kevin Burton Smith's Thrilling Detective Web Site entry; also, this excellent blog post from Mr. Peel's Sardine Liqueur, a new favorite site of mine.)

Severance and the Barry

This morning I woke up to the happy news that my fourth novel, Severance Package, has been nominated for a Barry Award in the category of Best Paperback Original. The full list has been leaked here; the winners will be announced at this year's Bouchercon in Indianapolis. I'm sure I'm going to have my ass handed to me by my fellow nominees (including Max Allan Collins and Christa Faust), but as they say, it's just a pleasure to be nominated.

Get Your Cable On

Newsarama has posted a double-barrel "Messiah War" interview with Chris Yost and yours truly, if you want a sneak peek at what lies ahead. Cable #15, the penultimate installment of "Messiah War," appears next Wednesday; you can find a 5-page preview right here at CBR.com.

Bam! What Happened? Where Am I?

Sorry for the radio silence. It's been crazy busy here in the basement office... but not too crazy to mention that Immortal Iron Fist #26, the conclusion of the "Escape from the Eighth City" arc, hits comic shops everywhere today. CBR has an eight page preview right here; I hope you'll check it out.

"He Will Freak You Out... Right Out of This World"

Is there better film poster in the world than this poster for Dracula A.D. 1972? You've got vampires. Muscle cars. Exposed necks. A chalice of blood. How can you not love this? How can you not want to watch this flick right this very moment?

The Universal monster movies never frightened me; I still have nightmares about the Hammer versions.

Pistol-Packing Polaroid Pulp

I read a short piece in today's NYT Style section about Neil Krug's pulpy photo series featuring model Joni Harbeck. They were taken with old Polaroid film stock, and look like stills from the bloodiest grainiest grittiest sun-drenched 1970s grindhouse crime flick you never saw. You can buy prints this Friday, wait for the book in the fall, or check out samples from the series right here. (Or here, in Krug's Flickr album.) I love these photos.

The Sunday Afternoon Haul

With the ladies away at a bridal shower, the boy and I passed the afternoon at Harvest Books in Ft. Washington, PA, which just so happened to be having a "$5 per bag" sale. This is exactly what it sounds like: browse the shelves. Fill a paper bag. Pay $5 (plus tax) for it.

The boy scored a few Far Side collections and a Bart Simpson book. Meanwhile, here's what I scooped up:

How to Talk Dirty and Influence People by Lenny Bruce. A Playboy Press paperback, as shown above. I've never read this. It's long overdue.

The Family by Ed Sanders. Don't know why, but I've been in a Manson mood lately.

The Kennedy Wit, Edited by Bill Adler. The coverline is what sold me: "1100,000 Copies in Print at $3.00. Now Only 60c!"

The Way We Lived Then and Justice by Dominick Dunne. I've been on a John Gregory Dunne tear lately, so I thought I might check out some of his brother's work.

Capote, by Gerald Clarke. A bio I've been meaning to read for years.

The Late John Marquand by Stephen Birmingham. Another literary bio. I've never read Marquand. But the jacket copy makes him sound like a real son of a bitch, so in the bag it went.

Damon Runyon: A Life by Jimmy Breslin. You might be sensing a vague theme to my picks this afternoon.

Kiss Hollywood Good-By by Anita Loos. "Her irreverance is the key to her readability." Sold.

Heroes by Joe McGinniss. He's a hometown boy (or was). In the bag it went.

I also picked up The Selected Letters of Raymond Chandler (edited by Frank MacShane) for five bucks, as well as a softcover copy of one of my favorite biographies ever, Cain by Roy Hoopes (for $4). Yes, I already have Cain in hardcover. But I buy copies whenever I run across them, because I usually end up giving extras to friends.

Anybody ever read any of the above?

Dutch Treat

Elmore Leonard sounds a bit like Jimmy Stewart. Which is weird, because Jimmy Stewart is definitely not the voice I hear in my head when I read Elmore Leonard novels. He also has this wonderful mischievous grin whenever he cracks himself up, and the wild, boyish humor that runs through his work is apparent on his face.

I could listen to Leonard speak all night. But tonight at the Free Library we only had an hour. Leonard read a little from Road Dogs, talked about how the book came together, told us how he sent a draft to George Clooney—who played the character of Jack Foley in Out of Sight—only, Clooney hasn't had time to read it. ("I guess they have other things to do in Hollywood," Leonard said.) He talked about his work-in-progress, a novel called Djibouti, about a documentary filmmaker on the hunt for Somali pirates. "I'm a 130 pages in," Leonard said, "and I'll start back on it after this book tour." He talked about some of his favorite contemporary writers—Dennis Lehane, George Pelecanos, Cormac McCarthy. He talked about his love for Hemingway, although wished he had a sense of humor in his work. He talked about avoiding writing that sounds like writing. "People ask, what do you mean by that?" Leonard asked, then said: "Upon returning to the room..." Leonard strives for dialogue that sounds like "normal people talking." He doesn't do similes. He likes to have characters talking before you realize where they are, or what they're doing. And he still thinks George V. Higgins' The Friends of Eddie Coyle is the best crime novel ever written. (And a lot of people would agree with him.) He talked about how he and his wife Christine once saw Paul Newman in a Beverly Hills clothing shop, and briefly thought about approaching and telling Newman that he was the author of Hombre. "But what if he didn't like it?" Leonard asked.

So he didn't.

Let Loose the Dogs

Elmore Leonard is doing a reading and signing at the Free Library of Philadelphia tonight in support of his latest novel, Road Dogs. Two years ago I had the chance to do a phone Q&A with Leonard for the Philadelphia City Paper (my ex-employer), and he spoke about the novel, as well as his writing process:

CP: Speaking of your next book, I heard on your podcast that you took three characters from previous books and set them off in a new story.

EL: The plot always comes out of the characters. That's the way I write books. And these three are some of my favorites. One, Jack Foley—George Clooney played him [in Out of Sight]. And Clooney said it's one of his favorite characters, so we're going to show him this book when I finish it. But Jack Foley's back in prison, facing 30 years, and I want him to meet Dawn Navarro, because I loved her, and didn't feel I enough with her, and it'll be just a few years later—I'm not going to do it actual time later, she'd be too old. But she'll be in her early 30s when she meets Foley. She's a psychic, and she knows things. He doesn't believe it at first, but she tells things about him that are true. And then the bad guy, Cundo Rey, he's from LaBrava, and I though of him, and I though, God, I hope he's still alive. I read the last chapter or two of LaBrava, and I found out LaBrava shot him in the chest three times. Oh my God—but! La Brava just assumes he's dead, and leaves. And so the emergency guys come, and his heart's still beating.

CP: Do you have an end point in mind? Or is it total improvisation?

EL: No, I'm always making it up as I go along. The first 100 pages seem to work, because I'm introducing characters, and we find out what their angle is. But then from 100--and I always think of it that way, in three parts—but from 100 to 200 is when I have to do a little plotting. And I don't want the plot to be obvious. I want the reader to wonder what's going to happen and be surprised at what develops. Because now in that second act some of the secondary characters will get into action. And then, of course, the third act, in the past my manuscripts all run around 350-360 pages, around in there. So once I approach page 300, I have to start thinking of the ending. And there are always several different ways you can end it. I choose one that I like and just go for it.

On the Level

Well, USA Today outed me. That "collaboration" I've been hinting about for a while now is Level 26: Dark Origins, a "digi-novel" by Anthony Zuiker, the creator of CSI. The story is 100% Zuiker's; I'm the wordslinger he tapped to help tell the tale.

What is a "digi-novel," you ask? Well, it's a hybrid of print and digital video; as Zuiker explained to USA Today, you read about 20 pages of the novel, then have the chance to jump online and watch a three-minute video to enhance the experience. The book does stand on its own, but it's so much better to take the ride as Zuiker intended.

You may also ask: Does this mean the death of print/the twilight of the word, etc.? Of course not. I think it's a cool new way to experience a thriller. Traditionally, a novel will appear, and then sometimes—if the stars are aligned, the pentagrams drawn, the goats slain—a movie version will follow months or years later. Well, this is both experiences slammed together, drawing on the strengths of each to tell a seriously wild, intense and scary-as-shit story. As a guy who loves books, who loves movies, who especially loves scary books and movies... this is a dream project for me.

And finally, you might be asking yourself: What the fuck is that thing under the bed (above)? Ah, see, that's the other thing that drew me to the project: Zuiker's villain. I'm not into spoilers, so you won't get any out of me... but holy God wait until you meet this thing. The moment Zuiker told me about it over the phone last summer was the moment I knew I had to be part of this.

I hope you guys will give it a chance this September. In the meantime, you can go to www.Level26.com and sign up for updates.

(Also, you might want to start checking under your beds.)