Secret Dead Blog

Retreat to Goodisville: The Slideshow

2012-01-17T16:46:00.000-05:00

Fellow David Goodis fan and photographer (and, coincidentally, my RA during my junior year of college) Mark Krajnak put together this moody and noirish slideshow with highlights from our Retreat to Goodisville. Pour yourself a drink, light a smoke, lean back, and enjoy.

Lager, Eyepatches and Rockabilly

2011-12-18T10:54:00.000-05:00

Erik Carlson (whose wife Hannah won the Starling lookalike contest last month) makes a podcast called Bibliodiscoteque where he creates soundtracks for the books of his favorite writers. Past installments have featured Steve Niles, Harlan Ellison and Christa Faust, and I'm flattered to report that Erik's gone and compiled a crazy punk, blues and rockabilly soundtrack for my novels Fun & Games and Hell & Gone. Erik emailed me in late October to ask if I had any suggestions, but I'm glad I didn't follow through with any, because I'm freakin' loving what Erik selected. Download the podcast and check it out for yourself, but right now I'm in my basement office writing to Rocket to Memphis' "I'm Bad," Sparkle Moore's "Skull & Crossbones," The Woolly Bandits' "Woman of Mass Destruction," and The Soft Boys' "I Want to Destroy You," just to name a few. Huge thanks, Erik. You've got a little thank-you present on its way to you...

Retreat to Goodisville 2012

2011-12-02T11:51:00.000-05:00

Bacall, Goodis and Bogie, on the set of Dark Passage.

It's official; my partner in crime Lou Boxer has booked the bus, and we're finalizing the itinerary. What used to be a humble graveside tribute to Philly noir legend David Goodis has blossomed into a full-on noir adventure on wheels we're calling, "Retreat to Goodisville."

Here's the deal: at 10 a.m., Saturday January 7th, 2012 (the 45th anniversary of Goodis's death) we'll be meeting just outside The Lost Bar of Atlantis, 2442 Frankford Avenue. A coach bus will take 30 of us up to the Goodis grave in nearby Bensalem, PA. Along the way, we'll watch an excerpt of The Burglar, the 1957 shot-in-Philly crime noir, scripted by Goodis from his own novel. Bring your favorite Goodis passage, because at the man's grave we'll be paying tribute to him by reading excerpts from his work. Then it's back on the bus for a tour of prime Goodis locations, including the house where he lived with his parents (and wrote most of his novels), his birthplace, street corners and landmarks mentioned in Down There, Black Friday, Cassidy's Girl, Of Tender Sin, and much, much more. Plus, on the bus we'll have guest speakers, prizes, and beer. (Yes, we're allowed to imbibe on the bus. Lou checked!) Finally, we'll end up back at the Lost Bar for beer and snacks. The first round is on us; the snacks are courtesy the fine folks at the Lost Bar. Plus: just across the street, the Philadelphia Brewing Co. will be offering brief tours.

Want a seat on the bus? We're asking for $25 per person to cover transportation, bus snacks and incidentals. Seating is limited, so drop me a line at duane DOT swier AT verizon DOT net (with the subject line, "Retreat to Goodisville") and I'll send you an address where you can send a check to reserve your seat.

Don't want to enjoy the warmth and camaraderie of the bus? No worries; Goodis's characters were loners, too. Meet us at the grave site and we'll give you a list of our tour stops so you can join in. But trust me: the bus is going to be worth it. Early January in Philadelphia tends to be pretty damn cold.

Lou and I hope to see you many of you guys there. Any questions? Drop me a line. I'll post a follow-up when the bus is full, which based on our early head count, should be fairly soon.

Okay, I Lied

2011-11-27T12:14:00.001-05:00

I will be making one more appearance before the end of the year, and it's in Jersey! Noon next Saturday (December 3rd) I'll be hanging out with Jeff Marsick and Scott Barnett at Flemington, New Jersey's Comic Fusion (42 Main Street) as they celebrate the launch of their excellent creator-owned title, Dead Man's Party. I'll also be signing copies of Birds of Prey and whatever else you'd like. Then really, I swear this time, this is it. You won't be seeing me again until 2012.

Anyway, if you're anywhere near the greater Flemington, NJ area, which includes ALL OF PHILADELPHIA AND NEW YORK, in my opinion... stop on by! Remember: nothing says "the holidays" like "personalized comics and crime novels."

Hell Comes to New Hope

2011-11-16T11:49:00.000-05:00

This Saturday I'll be signing copies of Hell & Gone at Farley's Bookshop in New Hope, PA, nestled on the shores of the Delaware River. This is my only Philly-area appearance, and probably my last signing for quite a while, as I'm pretty much in chain-myself-to-my-desk mode through the end of the year. I'll be at Farley's from 1 p.m. until 4 p.m., so stop by and say hello. (44 South Main Street, 215-862-2542)

Guest Post: Reed Farrel Coleman Takes Us to Church

2011-11-10T07:00:00.020-05:00

I met Reed Farrel Coleman the same night I met Ken Bruen and Jason Starr, during Edgars Week 2004. That night, I nervously dropped (and shattered) a pint glass full of beer right in front of Reed. For some reason, he continued to speak to me. We've served on con panels together, hoisted more beers together, even shed a tear together. Reed and me... we've been through quite a bit. So of course I'm proud to present a guest post from Reed, even though he still hasn't let me forget about that shattered beer. -D.S.

One Month/Two Books
By Reed Farrel Coleman

On November 8th, Gun Church, my second stand-alone novel will be released as an exclusive audio download by Audible.com. Later in the month, my 7th Moe Prager Mystery, Hurt Machine, will be released by Tyrus Books. Talk about two different journeys! Other than the fact that both novels bear two words titles, the writing experience and the novels themselves could not be more divergent. I guess that’s why I love writing so much. Every project has its own distinct qualities and presents its own unique challenges.

Hurt Machine is the 7th novel in a series, but anyone who has followed Moe Prager’s trials and tribulations knows that each novel in the series is its own animal. Moe ages throughout the series and because he does, he is forced to face the changing realities that aging represents. Moe’s in his 60s at the beginning of the novel. Just two weeks before his daughter’s wedding, he receives some pretty serious news about his health. His ex-wife Carmella, who had left him years earlier and moved up to Canada, returns to ask a favor of Moe, a favor she has no right to ask. It seems that Carmella’s estranged sister has been murdered and no one in New York City seems very interested in finding her killer. Why? Well, as they say in marketing departments around the world, you’ll have to read the book. Unique as Hurt Machine is, it only took me about five months to write. The advantage of a series is that the author knows his setting, knows the characters, knows how his characters think and feel. There’s very little guessing for me when I write Moe.

On the other hand, it took me nearly six years to write and publish Gun Church. Strangely enough, the entire plot for Gun Church popped into my head the moment I got the idea for the novel. I can even remember the exact moment I had the idea. I was watching a weapons demonstration by the author Jim Born. During the Q & A, an audience member asked Jim something about the spread of pellets in a shotgun shell. Jim said something to the effect that only a true gun expert would know the answer to that. Bang! (no pun intended) The idea came fully formed into my head. A debauched former 80s literary wunderkind has fallen on hard times and is now teaching creative writing at a rural community college. A student tries to take over his class at gunpoint, but the washed up writer saves the day. He gets a second fifteen minutes of fame, but also gets deeply involved with a cult-like group of locals who worship handguns. I swear, that came to me in a flash. Unfortunately, the book itself took much longer to write.

The challenges were legion because not only does Gun Church feature a book within a book, first and third person narration, and sections in Irish dialect, but also includes a plot that revolves around art imitating life imitating art. It was like writing the anti-Moe book. I was forced to develop a whole new range of skills to tackle the problems I faced and to deal with all the moving parts. What I needed most was a patient editor who believed in the project enough to nurse me along. When the manuscript—in a very different form—finally found its way to Steve Feldberg at Audible.com, I found that editor. He found the book I had lost sight of.

Called a hard-boiled poet by NPR’s Maureen Corrigan, Reed Farrel Coleman has published fourteen novels. He is the three-time recipient of the Shamus Award for Best Detective Novel of the Year and has been twice nominated for the Edgar. He has also won the Macavity, Barry, and Anthony Awards. Reed is an adjunct professor of English at Hofstra University and lives on Long Island with his family Visit Reed at www.reedcoleman.com or on Twitter: @ReedFColeman.

The Markham Affair

2011-11-09T16:50:00.005-05:00

"Q.R. Markham." (Photo courtesy The Mysterious Bookshop.)

Last Wednesday night I was sitting in an Irish pub not far from the World Trade Center site, unwinding after a joint appearance at The Mysterious Bookshop. To my left was novelist Lawrence Block, one of my writing heroes. At one point our ultra-nerdy conversation turned to legendary thriller writer Robert Ludlum. Little did I know that within a week the person sitting to my right, Quentin Rowan, would be accused of plagiarizing material from Ludlum. As well as many other writers, including Ian Fleming, James Bamford, John Gardner, Geoffrey O'Brien and Charles McCarry.

News broke yesterday that Rowan, writing under the psuedonym "Q.R. Markham," lifted huge chunks of other books to cobble together his debut, Assassin of Secrets. Edward Champion, over at his blog Reluctant Habits, found more than two dozen instances of obscene plagiarism in the first 35 pages alone.

The whole affair leaves me feeling embarrassed, puzzled, and more than a little angry. Why?

Because I blurbed the fucking thing.

I blurbed it because I was given an early peek at the manuscript, and I liked it very much. I thought it fused modern Bourne-esque spy action with a classic, old-school feel. Only, I had no idea how "old school" the novel truly was.

As I read it, nothing jumped out at me and screamed "plagiarism." Of the works Markham/Rowan apparently stole from, I've only read James Bamford's Body of Secrets: Anatomy of the Ultra-Secret National Security Agency, and I'm not one to memorize passages from a nonfiction book I read nearly 10 years ago. This is not an excuse; this is just letting you know why no alarm bells went off. When reading a novel for blurb purposes, I'm almost never thinking, Gee wonder if this guy ripped off anyone I've ever read...

But still, I'm mortified to be associated with this Frankenstein-ish heist job of a novel. If you purchased this book because of my blurb, I offer my sincere apologizes. Please return it immediately (you're still within most bookstores' two-week return window) and use your store credit to buy a Ludlum, Gardner, Fleming, or McCarry novel. Or Bamford's truly excellent Secrets. Or Geoffrey O'Brien's brilliant Fall of the House of Walworth, which I read (and loved) just last week.

I'm puzzled because I have no idea why Markham/Rowan thought he could get away with it. The guy's not just stealing a cool image here and there; as Champion has detailed, Markham/Rowan lifted huge, huge slabs of text. You could make the postmodern/pastiche argument, I suppose, but wouldn't a literary genius have the sense to let his editor and publisher in on the gag?

Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just stealing.

Which brings me to the anger part. I met Markham/Rowan briefly at the Mulholland Books party at Book Expo America this past spring, but didn't see him again until last Wednesday, when I chatted with him and his mother right before the event. At least, Markham/Rowan claimed that sweet woman was his mother. Who's to say?

Anyway... I'm angry because I can't help but think about what was going through his mind. Was he secretly laughing because he'd managed to dupe everybody in the room, from readers to editors to fellow writers to booksellers? Was he ticking down the moments until he was exposed... thinking that it might even be that very night? What was he thinking as he signed his name to those first copies, knowing that so many of the words beneath the title page belonged to other people?

Then again, Rowan wasn't even signing his own name.

The 45th Annual Goodis Memorial: Noir on Wheels

2011-11-06T08:39:00.004-05:00

David Goodis, toiling on the Warner Bros. lot. (Courtesy Lou Boxer)

Forty-five years ago this January, Philadelphia novelist David Goodis died at the young age of 49. And for the past few years, a bunch of us hardcore Goodis-heads have gathered at his graveside near the anniversary of his death to pay tribute, followed by a tour of Goodis locations (his residences, neighborhoods featured in his novels).

This year, however, Lou Boxer and I have been kicking around something a little more ambitious: a bus tour that would include film clips, readings, and more Goodis-centric stops (including filming locations for the 1957 set-in-Philadelphia crime flick The Burglar), followed by cold beer and warm conversation at a river ward taproom. The date: Saturday, January 7, 2012.

So my question for my fellow Goodis-heads (and anyone else interested):

If a bus tour were to happen, would you be willing to pony up $15-20 to help cover transportation? We're not looking for a hard commitment... more a general head count of who might be interested. We both think a bus tour would be so much more enjoyable than our usual caravan of cars; we just want to make sure the numbers work out. This fee would also include snacks and a few drinks, and maybe even some bonus Goodis prizes.

Drop us a line at duane DOT swier AT verizon DOT net or noircon AT gmail DOT com if you'd like to join the party, with the subject line "Goodis Tour." And feel free to spread the word!

Photo Contest Winner #3: Meet Starling!

2011-11-02T08:07:00.002-04:00

... as portrayed by Ms. Hannah Carlson. The photo was snapped by Hannah's husband Erik, who wrote: "When we saw the contest [Hannah] jumped at the chance to dress up as Starling (and it was a great Halloween costume, too!)"

Anyway, Ms. Carlson has the look dead perfect, from arm tats to gun strap to ponytail. But it's also her slightly mischievous look that just screams "Starling" to me. The moment I opened the email I thought, Yep. That's her. Ready to do a shot and knee somebody in the face.

The Carlsons will enjoy a full year of signed copies of Birds of Prey from my personal comp stash. Issues #1 and 2 will go out together, followed by one every month until next August. Enjoy!

There were also two very fine honorable mentions who will be receiving signed copies of the first two issues of Birds. First up: Ms. Cherryfox, who reports that the wig she's wearing weighed a ton:

If you recognize that watermark, it's because Ms. Cherryfox created that winning photo of Mr. Raphael Went as Hardie (see earlier entry). Talk about your crossovers! I don't think Hardie would last long in a relationship with Starling, btw. For one thing, she could definitely out-drink/shoot/brawl him, and that would probably bug him after a while.

And finally Lauren (last name withheld for what I presume are Homeland Security-related issues) (I'M KIDDING LAUREN, just respecting your privacy) sent this ultra-spirited photo of Starling behind the wheel, which just makes me smile. She has Starling's love of gleeful mayhem down pat:

Congrats to everyone! And thanks so much for entering this crazy little contest. I do hope you all got some Hallowe'en mileage out of these costumes. (For the record, I spent the holiday dressed up as Hardie. And it wasn't ginger beer in my hand, either.)

Photo Contest Winner #2: Meet Mann (Possibly NSFW)

2011-11-02T07:37:00.001-04:00

... a.k.a., Ms. Amber Love, comic book journalist and costumed entertainment host and all-around cool person. She's pretty much nailed Mann post-Fun & Games (highlight the next line to reveal spoilerish-material): topless, with a gun, and missing an eye. I imagine this photo was snapped during another Mann adventure that took place between the events of the first two books, possibly when she was taking out some other celebrity and making it look like an accident. The 9/11 tattoo is a fine touch, too, giving Mann's back story a new wrinkle. And the whole look calls to mind the 1973 Swedish exploitation thriller They Call Me One Eye, later referenced in Tarantino's Kill Bill flicks.

Anyway, huge points for Ms. Love a.) packing a real gun, and b.) going the full Mann. And credit also goes to Ashley N., a.k.a. @smash_is_nerdy on Twitter, who snapped this photo. Prizes will be winging their way to you, Ms. Love.

Next up: Hello, Starling!

Photo Contest WInner #1: Meet Hardie

2011-11-02T07:19:00.002-04:00

Take a gander at Mr. Raphael Went's impression of Charlie Hardie, the hero of my novels Fun & Games and the recently-released Hell & Gone. (You can click the photo for a better look.) In his entry, Mr. Went writes:

I felt it was too easy to impale myself on the mic stand in the front room, or to go out and get shot at by all the people I've managed to piss off. Instead, I opted for a "before all the shit kicks off" Charlie Hardie, sat down watching old movies in a room that is big enough to fit my entire house into. Twice. I'm not REALLY watching an old movie though. There isn't even a tv in that room! I'm acting. Or posing, I guess. But if I were, I'd be watching...I don't know, let's say The Maltese Falcon. And the "booze" in the glass? Ginger beer! The whole photo is a lie and I have made a mockery out of poor Charlie.

Not at all, good sir. I think you nailed Mr. Hardie's world-weariness, staring off into the darkness is a very nice touch. You're probably wearing nicer kicks than Hardie would ever consider, and you look maybe a bit too fresh-faced and young... but those are mere quibbles. You win! Shoot me your mailing addy and I'll send out your hard-earned prizes.

(A lifetime supply of ginger beer!)

I kid, I kid...

Anyway, honorable mention goes to Mr. Ryan K Lindsay, who sent along this photo...

... explaining, "I've attached a real 'think piece' of a photo for Charlie Hardie. I figure this image comes from a lost tale of his with a beard and some real worries about what he's done, and what he's left." I can dig it, Mr. Lindsay. Remind me of your addy and I'll send you a little bonus prize.

Stay tuned for... Mann! Possibly NSFW!

Hitting the Highway to Hell

2011-10-29T11:40:00.002-04:00

Yep, I'm packing up the suitcase again for a few quick appearances to promote Hell & Gone over the next few weeks. Am I stopping by a town near you? Well, that depends. Do you live near...

... New York City? Then yes, this Wednesday evening I'll be at the Mysterious Bookshop along with the legendary Lawrence Block, the mysterious Megan Abbott, and the quizzical Q.R. Markham. (6:30 p.m., 58 Warren Street, 212-587-1011).

... Houston, Texas? Again, you're in luck! This Friday night I'll be at Murder By the Book signing with Christa Faust, who's out supporting her latest novel, Choke Hold. Interestingly, director/activist Michael Moore will be at another store, pretty much one block away, the same night. So if you're in town for the Moore thing at 5, wander down the street at catch us at MBTB. (6:30 p.m., 2342 Bissonnet Street, 888-4-AGATHA).

... Milwaukee, Wisconsin? Damn straight, skippy. I've been invited to take part in Murder and Mayhem in Muskego 7 along with Megan Abbott (who I suspect will be reallll tired of me by then), Tasha Alexander, Dana Cameron, Joelle Charbonneau, Sean Chercover, John Connolly, Hilary Davidson, Alison Gaylin, Andrew Grant, Tony Hays, Gar Anthony Haywood, Jess Loury, Gary Phillips, Stefanie Pintoff, Marcus Sakey, Tom Schreck, Kelli Stanley, Martyn Waites and Jeri Westerson. (Tickets still available! Check the website for details.)

... New Hope, PA? Hellz yeah! I'll be at Farley's Bookshop the afternoon of Saturday, November 19. More details soon. (44 South Main Street, 215-862-2452.)

... Joliet, Illinois? Nope, sorry! Hey, I can't be everywhere at once.

Hope to see some of you out on the road. And if not, I do hope you'll pick up a copy of Hell & Gone, which is available in finer bookstores (and e-emporiums) right this very second.

(Photo: "Man folding clothes into a suitcase," Nina Leen, July 1951. Courtesy Life Photo Archive.)

The Big Hallowe'en Hell & Gone (and Birds of Prey!) Photo Contest

2011-10-25T18:26:00.005-04:00

Today was one of those happy days in a writer's life when a box containing multiple copies of a book he's written shows up on the front doorstep. That joyous feeling never, ever gets old. And as usual, I'd like to spread the joy.

Want to win a signed and/or personalized copy of my latest novel, Hell & Gone, straight from my private stash? Here's the deal:

Do your best impression of Charlie Hardie, Lane Madden, or Mann from Fun & Games (the first novel in the series) and send me a photo by noon, EST, on Halloween.

"Impression" can mean many things. A costume. A look. A reenacted scene from the novel. Whatever. The winner will be the person whose photo makes me think, Now damn... that's a good Hardie/Lane/Mann!

If you haven't read the first novel.., for shame!... Hardie is an alcoholic house sitter/former tough guy. Lane Madden is a spoiled brat actress. And Mann is... well, you're going to have to read the book to know Mann's deal.

Anyway, send those photos to me at duane DOT swier AT verizon DOT net by noon EST next Monday, along with your mailing address. Top three entries will receive signed copies of both Hell & Gone and Fun & Games, along with some bonus Halloween goodies. (You'll also appear on this humble blog.) But everyone who enters will receive a postcard, thanking you for your submission. In other words, everybody wins! Yes, you can enter from anywhere in the world. It's cool. I'll happily take care of the postage if you rock an awesome Hardie/Lane/Mann.

BONUS CONTEST: I also write Birds of Prey for DC Comics and was lucky enough to create a new character along with artist Jesus Saiz. Her name is Starling, and she's a real piece of work. (Take a gander, above.) If you cosplay/dress up as Starling for Halloween, send me a photo by midnight EST next Monday. The best Starling impression wins a signed copy of every single issue of Birds of Prey from the first year of its run. That's right... twelve issues, signed to your liking, sent to your mailbox each month. You can't beat that with a stick!

Any questions? Email me, or leave a comment below. Good luck!

How Charles Ardai Picked Up a Cocktail Waitress

2011-09-24T09:35:00.000-04:00

This past week noir-heads were were thrilled to learn that Hard Case Crime's Charles Ardai had found a lost James M. Cain novel called The Cocktail Waitress, and will be publishing it next fall. I first read about this supposedly "lost" novel in Roy Hoopes's excellent biography Cain, never imagining we'd all have the chance to enjoy it. Ardai, who's clearly the Indiana Jones of pulp fiction, agree to talk about how he tracked the novel down.

Secret Dead Blog: How did you manage to unearth The Cocktail Waitress manuscript? Can you tell me more about the "detective work" involved?

Charles Ardai: A little more than nine years ago, when I first approached Max Allan Collins with the idea of writing for Hard Case Crime (this was a year before we signed the original deal with Dorchester, two years before the first Hard Case Crime book ever got published), we were brainstorming about what authors and books might be a good fit for our new line, and he mentioned that he knew of one last crime novel James M. Cain wrote at the end of his life but never published. He hadn’t actually seen or read the book, all he knew was the title: The Cocktail Waitress. But he knew that it existed. And he suggested that it might make a good addition to the Hard Case Crime list.

Well, I couldn’t disagree with that. I’ve been a huge Cain fan since age 18, when on my way home from my first day at Columbia I found a dog-eared copy of Double Indemnity on a used-book table and read it from cover to cover before my bus ride ended. (It’s a short book. And a long bus ride.) I’d tracked down and read every single book Cain ever wrote, even the obscure ones, even the bad ones. Even the short stories. I’d done the same thing with Chandler, with Graham Greene, with Vonnegut. It’s what I did with authors who really struck a chord for me. And Cain struck one that had resonated for fifteen years.

So I began the process of trying to find The Cocktail Waitress. Talked to the literary agents who handled the estate – they’d heard of the book but didn’t have a copy, didn’t know where a copy might be found, discouraged my looking because, well, if it had remained unpublished all this time, how good could it be? I thanked them and went on with my search. Rare book dealers? Collectors of manuscripts? Fellow Cain devotees? I won’t say I talked to everyone, but I talked to a good cross-section, and no one had ever read The Cocktail Waitress. You could get a copy of Willeford’s forbidden Grimhaven (and I did); you could get a two-volume samizdat edition of Salinger’s uncollected short stories (and I did); but not The Cocktail Waitress. There were 34 boxes of writings archived at the Library of Congress, and if I were a Dan Brown character I would have gone down to D.C. and started hunting through them (and wound up chased at gunpoint through the sewers by a maniacal albino, but I digress), but I didn’t – if I had, I would have found it sooner, I now realize, but at the time I assumed what they had was all correspondence, tax returns, and legal papers (most of it is). I did travel a bit, to book shows and conferences, and got the word out about what I was looking for, and none of it did a bit of good. Until one day I was out in Hollywood – Hollywoodland, I suppose I should call it, in deference to the opening of Double Indemnity – and talking with my film and TV agent about the quest, and he said, “You know, I inherited the papers of an old Hollywood agent who used to represent all the big authors when they came out here – Faulkner and Fitzgerald and Chandler and Cain…” And Cain, too? Yes, Cain. Could he take a look through the old man’s files (I’m not being disrespectful, the man had been 91 when he died) and see if maybe, just maybe, there was some germ of a hint of a clue I might follow up on, some thread I could start tugging to see what unraveled? A few days later, I got a package in the mail, containing the manuscript of The Cocktail Waitress. It really was one of those Spielberg moments, as I told Dave Itzkoff in the Times: You open the box and your eyes go wide as your face is bathed in a golden light from below. The thing itself. It was in my hands at last.

SDB: Forgive the hardcore noir nerd question I'm about to ask, but... it sounds like you're working from Cain's original typescript. What does a typed James M. Cain page look like? Pristine? Lots of crossouts? Do the letters practically bleed onto the page? Did you run your fingertips all over the pages in a slightly-orgasmic frenzy? (I would have.)

CA: It wasn’t word-processed, that’s for damn sure. Hammered out on a manual typewriter, good old metal-struck letters in nice even rows. Most pages clean, but where he had an idea for something to insert, it’s scrawled by hand in the left or bottom margin with an arrow showing where he meant the new sentences to go. Cross-outs when he no longer liked a phrase and wanted it changed. He caught word repetitions and fixed them. On the other hand, there were two places where a bit of math is required and he got it wrong both times – computing how much tip is left after you pay for a drink with a twenty dollar bill, and (more forgivably) computing compounded interest on an old debt. Cain’s handwriting is not easy to read, but you have to remember that the man was in his 80s and had had some health problems by then. But when you decipher it, it’s good writing. His editorial instincts were spot on – I don’t think there was one case where he made a change and I thought, That’s a mistake, I preferred it the way he had it originally. One spot of whimsy: When he got to the last page of the novel, he had a lot of blank space left after typing the last line, and he filled it up by typing “T H E E N D” vertically on a slant. You can almost feel the man’s relief and joy at having made it to the end. He knew he was getting on in years and according to his biographer would talk about his own death a lot; he wasn’t sure he still had it in him to write a novel. But man, did he ever.

SDB: Cain seems to be having, as they say, a "moment" (what, with the Mildred Pierce mini-series and snazzy retro Vintage reprints). What is it about his work that keeps it relevant and fresh all of these decades later?

CA: Cain’s work draws you in irresistibly, and I’ve tried over the years to figure out how he does it, but it’s hard to say. Something about the way he inhabits his characters’ voices, something about the intimate first-person narration, something about the sense of desperation – you can feel his characters sweating and breathing hard. There’s usually an element of sex, of course, and one of economic hunger, and since when have lust and greed ever been boring? There’s just something elemental about Cain, like you’re reading about men and women stripped bare, the human animal at its most raw. The emotions aren’t subtle. His people are cruel, they’re passionate, and when they sin, they go all the way.

SDB: Are there other "holy grails" out there? Or is The Cocktail Waitress the big one?

CA: This is the big one for me – there’s nothing else I’ve been looking for this long. You hear rumors about a last, lost “black” Travis McGee, but I’m 99% sure that just doesn’t exist. There’s the original pulp version of THE MALTESE FALCON, but you can find that easily enough if you pay a pulp dealer for it, and I don’t think the differences between the original and the final book version are huge. There are great obscure books I’d love to reprint and the authors have so far said no, but that’s not the same thing – the books exist, anyone can find a copy if they really want. This is the last great undiscovered manuscript that I know of.

Photo: "Cocktail Lounge in New Union Hall," J.R. Eyerman, 1942. Courtesy Google/LIFE.

Not Now, Starling, I Have a Headache

2011-09-13T20:59:00.001-04:00

I'm excited to report that Birds of Prey #1, my collaboration with artist Jesus Saiz and part of DC Comics's "The New 52" relaunch, will be out in comic shops (and your iPad!) next Wednesday. Comics Alliance posted a few preview pages today, if you want a little taste of the mayhem. You can also read my editor Janelle Asselin's take on the new series on the DC blog.

And next Wednesday I'll be celebrating the Birds launch at Jim Hanley's Universe (4 West 33rd Street, right across from the Empire State Building in New York City), signing copies along with Ivan Brandon (Men of War), Scott Snyder (Batman, Swamp Thing), Peter Tomasi (Green Lantern Corps, Batman and Robin) and Fabian Nicieza (Legion Lost). New Yorkers! Drop by after work and come hang with us, from 6 to 8 p.m.

Above: that's new character Ev Crawford, a.k.a. Starling, kicking a little ass inside a church. I'm especially proud of Starling, since Jesus and I were given the opportunity to create her for the series. If you've read my crime novels and dig characters like Kelly White (from The Blonde) and Molly Lewis (Severance Package), I think you'll feel right at home with Ms. Crawford. Come to think of it, those three would make for a hell of a team-up...

For Appearances' Sake: Bouchercon Edition

2011-09-13T00:06:00.003-04:00

The early Bouchercons always freak me out a little. Bouchercon is the annual World Mystery Convention. And by "early Bouchercons," I mean the ones in September. Usually they take place in October, but once in a blue moon (as in Chicago, 2005) you get a September. Summer's not even technically over, and yet, I'm packing up for a B'Con. Doesn't seem natural somehow...

Of course, that doesn't mean I'm not excited as hell about the whole thing. And this time, the fun will be in lovely downtown St. Louis, MO. A city that I've only visited once, but dug very, very much.

Schedule-wise, here's my deal:

Wednesday (9/14): I'm proud to be joining Hilary Davidson, Glenn Gray, John Rector and Anonymous-9 for Noir at the Bar: De-Bouchercon Kick-Off (Meshuggah Cafe, 6269 Delmar Blvd.) Fun starts at 8 p.m.; brace your livers. You know, one of you may prove me wrong... but after this event, I may be the only writer to have appeared at all three Noir at the Bar venues (Philly, L.A., St. Louis). Go ahead! Prove me wrong! I double-dog dare you! Anyway, you don't have to be registered for B'Con to attend, so stop on by.

Thursday (9/15): I'll be on the 2:30 p.m. "Unnatural Vices: Comics and Crime Fiction" panel moderated by Cullen Bunn, along with co-panelists Max Allan Collins, Gary Phillips and Jason Starr. Room: Majestic D, which also happened to be my nickname in high school. (Note: This is not true.)

Friday (9/16): Come 3:30 p.m. I'll be hunkered down at the Crimespree Magazine table in the book room, signing stuff with the immortal Christa Faust. We'll most likely be warming up/practicing schtick for our joint appearance at Murder By the Book in Houston this November.

Saturday (9/17): My second panel! My God, are the B'Con organizers gluttons for punishment? This time, it's "Payback: Contemplating the Future of the Genre," moderated by the amazing Laura Lippman, along with co-panelists Hilary Davidson, Kathleen George, Bryan Gruley and Bill Loefelm (4 p.m., also in Majestic D). While we're all busy contemplating, I'm sure we'll be cracking a few jokes. Stop by and join in before you head out to get plastered.

Sunday (9/18): I'm proud to say that I'll be attending the Anthony Awards Brunch, since my 2010 novel, Expiration Date, is up for Best Paperback Original. Wish me luck. The awards are determined by votes from this year's B'Con goers, so if you do happen to be a B'Con goer... make sure you find me so that I may buy you the drink of your choice. And perhaps some fine leather goods, or jewelry?

Also, a small reward for those of you who've read this entire blog post: The first five people to see me at Bouchercon and tell me to "Go to hell" will receive an arc of Hell & Gone, my second Charlie Hardie thriller. Come on up, don't be shy. (Believe me, I'm used to hearing those words.) People who walk up to me and tell me to "Fuck off" will be obligated to buy me a beer to soothe my bruised soul.

The Story of O (Motorista!)

2011-08-27T21:53:00.000-04:00

*blows dust from this blog*

Wow, it's been a while. I was blogging up a storm all through July, and then I hit San Francisco, and... well, the official book tour stuff ended, and the grueling journey back cross country began (including run-ins with bikers, topless chicks, bullet-knives and a flat tire), as well as a rapid succession of deadlines. All of which is to say that I've been insanely busy, and right now I'm hunkered down in my basement lair, working as Hurricane Irene spins her way up the coastline.

But... I'm not too busy to share a very cool foreign edition cover with y'all. O Motorista is the Brazilian edition of The Wheelman, and let me be honest: they had me at O Motorista. (Is that a cool title, or what? I kind of want to write a Wheelman sequel called O Motorista, just so the Brazilians will have to publish it as The Wheelman, thereby confusing the living shit out of everyone.) Anyway, the cover art itself is a nice riff on the original St. Martin's edition, and just as appealing, I think. All in all, the good folks at Editora Rocco did a bang-up job.

Anyway, what do you guys think? And does anyone out there speak/read Portuguese? I'll give away a signed copy of one of these editions to first person who posts below... and proves it!

Fun & Games Across America: Bound for the City by the Bay

2011-07-31T18:52:00.000-04:00

Well, the Los Angeles portion of the summer trek is almost over, sad to say. I'm going to miss this crazy town. I feel like I've been running non-stop for the past two weeks, but also feel like I could use another two, four, ten weeks just to see everyone/do everything I wanted to do/see here.

But no use crying in the warm Southern California sunshine. That's because we're headed up north to San Francisco, my second favorite California town. And there's an honest-to-goodness Fun & Games event this Wednesday night, in case you happen to be in the area.

Janet Rudolph, editor of Mystery Readers Journal (and Philly native!) has invited me to this fancy Mystery Readers NorCal Literary Salon in Berkeley, CA. The fun starts at 7 p.m., and it's a potluck event (attendees are advised to bring "sweets and savories"). If you want to attend, just RSVP with Janet(janet AT mysteryreaders.org).

More postcard/tour updates tomorrow...

Fun & Games Across America: The Starlet

2011-07-29T22:33:00.002-04:00

Saw this joint, The Starlet, just a stone's throw from the Warner Bros. lot and just fell in love. Furnished apartments, but also (according to the neon sign) there's a POOL, and if the illustration is to be believed, random buxom starlets on the premises. In the deep background there are a gang of DC Comics and WB toon characters (Batman, Daffy Duck, Superman, Tweety Bird) exploding out of the side of Stage 3. If this image doesn't scream Burbank, nothing does.

Had a meeting this morning in the fabled WB Writer's Building, former home to such luminaries as William Faulkner, Lillian Hellman, John Huston, Irwin Allen and Clint Eastwood. I'll admit; I was geeking out quite a bit about being in the same place where Faulkner toiled many decades ago, especially after visiting his modest quarters in New Orleans just a few weeks back. So yeah... I'm totally stalking Faulkner on this trip.

Also couldn't but help think of the Faulkner-inspired W.P. Mayhew from Barton Fink. "I'll show you the life of the mind..."

Hope you're all staying cool and starlet-like, wherever you are.

Fun & Games Across America: From the Bar to San Diego and Back

2011-07-24T13:09:00.002-04:00

Yes, it's been a full week since my last post, but that doesn't mean I was sitting poolside, lost in a haze of bourbon and Pinkberry. It's been a busy week, let me tell you. When we last left off... oh yeah, I was headed off to the very first Noir at the Bar L.A., hosted by Eric Beetner, Stephen Blackmoore and Aldo "El Jefe" Calcagno. And it was a true blast. Great crowd, a great lineup of writers (including Josh Stallings and Holly O'Neill West) and a cool space (the Mandrake) that allowed us all to read with an endless loop of film noir trailers playing behind us, which created some interesting, random moments. Check out Mr. Blackmoore with a little James M. Cain backing himu up:

Mr. Blackmoore only rings once.

For the complete set of noir-tinged photos, wander over to my Facebook site. (Not on Facebook? OK, I'll slap 'em up on Flickr, too. Give me a few minutes...)

Most of this past week was spent writing and having meetings about stuff I can't talk about quite yet... but on Thursday I hit San Diego for my very first taste of Comic-Con! I caught a ride down with this guy:

A mini-dog with a mini-hog.

Comic-Con was everything I expected: sprawling, crazy, crowded and pretty damned awesome (once you adapt to the sprawling, crazy crowds). The best part: the happy discoveries. Like aimlessly wandering down one aisle to discover that legendary director Tobe Hooper, of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist fame, was signing copies of his debut novel, Midnight Movie. You'd better believe I flipped the switch to FANBOY mode. Below: a pic of me and Mr. Hooper, who turned out to be the nicest, coolest guy to ever dream up a world populated with cannibal families and evil entities who beckon young children into the light.

Hanging with Mr. Hooper.

Right after this photo was taken I raced over to the Hachette Booth, where I signed copies of Fun & Games for close to an hour. Everyone in line seemed to have a cool first name; I wanted to stop signing and actually jot down a few of them for future use in novels. I was also surprised to see a few youngish kids in line, so I inscribed their copies with a gentle warning: DAVEY, DO NOT READ UNTIL YOUR MOTHER GIVES YOU PERMISSION. Felt kind of like I was corrupting the morals of the young, but hey... you're never too early to hook a new reader.

Finally I raced up to Room 7AB where Charlie Huston was conducting his Spotlight panel. Weeks before, Charlie asked a gang of us to be his secret "expert guests" for a quiz game he'd be running. So before I knew it, I was up on stage with Charlie, Daniel (Deadpool) Way and Circle of Confusion manager Kemper Donovan for a fairly absurd-yet-fun game of "What the Fuck." The rules: Charlie would pick an audience member and ask them a question. However, said audience member was not allowed to answer; instead he or she had to tap a member of the expert panel with the phrase, "What the fuck, Daniel Way?" or "What the fuck, Kemper Donovan?" Prizes were awarded even if the so-called experts totally fucked up the answer. So... everybody wins! I think a cable network should give Charlie Huston his own goddamn game show. Here's Charlie in action:

"What the fuck, Charlie Huston?"

Before long, it was time to return to L.A. I made it to the train station early... only to learn that Comic-Con Con-gestion had snarled up the schedules something fierce, so my 8:20 train turned into a 9:30 train, depositing me back at Union Station just after midnight. You know, I really should have tried to hitch a ride back with that dog on the mini-hog.

Postcard update: Yes, there are still a few dozen to roll out! L.A.-centric postcards are going out to Laurence K. in Brookings, OR; Brian A. in Amherst, NY; Mark F. in Lilburn, GA; Derek R. in Pasadena, MD; Charles E. in Gainesville, FL; Jeff. M. in Plano, TX; Zachary C. in Rockland, ME; Sarah C. in Aston, PA; Dean B. in Alexandria, VA: Tina P. in Ridley Park, PA; Logan R. in Bayside, NY; Aziz B. in Henderson, NV; Matt S-G. in Chicago, IL; Mary C. in Joilet, IL; Henry DiR. in Cortlandt Manor, NY; Duncan C. in Lane Cove, Australia; Mark A. in Gladesville, Australia; Tania H. in Ottawa, Ontario, and finally, Wostri F. in Budapest, Hungary!

Fun & Games Across America: Noir at the Bar! L.A.! Tonight!

2011-07-17T13:30:00.002-04:00

You know this whole Carmageddon thing? Let me tell you, it's been kind of a non-event. I took the back roads (through Burbank, and up around Lake Hollywood Drive, then down in Beachwood Canyon), worried that I'd be late to a party... and I've never seen the streets of L.A. so frickin' deserted. Same thing coming home on the 101 up to Studio City. Deadsville.

So, SoCal residents... this means you have no excuse for not venturing down to the very first Noir at the Bar L.A.!

The event is free; hardboiled-types, noiristas and booze will be in abundance. I'm lucky enough to be sharing the bill with Josh Stallings, Holly O'Neill West, Stephen Blackmoore and Eric Beetner. We'll all be reading from our work. Instead of Fun & Games, however, I think I'll be reading a sliver of a forthcoming novella I've been working on for a while. There's cussing and much violence in this selection; it just feels right for this crowd.

Also, rumor has it... okay, okay, the Facebook event page has it... that noir legends Gar Anthony Haywood, Robert Ward, Gary Phillips and Terrill Lankford will also be dropping by

If you're nowhere near L.A., no worries. There may be a livestream of the event tonight. I'll post details as soon as I receive 'em.

Fun & Games Across America: Poison, Beer and Dust

2011-07-15T01:14:00.003-04:00

Haboob.

That's the new word I learned at Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, Arizona last night. "Haboob" is the Arabic word locals use to describe the fierce dust storms that sometimes wash over the entire Phoenix area. Just like the one that hit the city just a few days ago. I think we were in New Orleans when my son caught footage of the latest haboob on a cable news channel. He turned to me, eyes all wide, and said: "Dad, we're not going to Phoenix, are we?"

Had I known the word last week, I would have told my son in the most reassuring tone possible: "Don't worry, my boy. It's only a haboob."

But even a Biblical-style dust storm wouldn't have kept me away from Poisoned Pen. I'd been dying to visit this store for years. In fact, my only complaint about last night's event was that it was over way too fast. Huge thanks to Barbara Peters and the entire PP gang for being so gracious and fun. I'm already looking forward to my next trip to Scottsdale.

I also met some people I feel like I've known forever, namely: Patrick Millikin, Poisoned Pen's resident hardboiled expert, who's been incredibly supportive of my stuff since the beginning. Mike MacLean (shown in the photo above with his arms folded), who writes great crime stories as well as Roger Corman flicks (Sharktopus!). And of course, Keith Rawson, that loveable scallywag who co-edits The Crime Factory with Cameron Ashley. What really stunned me about Rawson is that he looks just like a young Michael Connelly. Seriously. It's uncanny. You can't quite see it in the photo above (he's the dude in the red shirt), but in person... let me tell you, I almost broke out the copy of The Last Coyote in my back pocket and asked him to sign it, that's how close the resemblance is.

After the event proper (with Harry Dolan, Thomas Kaufman and Michael Wiley, all of them true gentlemen), Rawson dragged me into a back room for a video Q&A. He's threatened to post it sometime soon. I'm not exactly the most photogenic person in the world, so I'm hoping the fact that a.) it was dark, and b.) I was wearing a black t-shirt means I'll look like a vague shadow, spewing nerdy nonsense from some pitch black abyss.

Then, a small gang of us headed across the street to the Coach House, which claims to be "Scottsdale's Oldest Tavern." And while "oldest" actually means "opened in 1959," you've got to love a place that's open 6 a.m. until 2 a.m., 365 days a year. Here's a photo of Mr. Rawson at the Coach House, trying hard to not look like Michael Connelly and FAILING MISERABLY:

This morning the Fun & Games rolled across the rest of Arizona, crossed the California border, and crash-landed in Studio City. On the way into town, I snapped a photo on the 101, pretty much where Lane Madden almost buys it in the opening chapter of Fun & Games:

Thankfully, life did not imitate art. No one smashed into us, or tried to inject us with speedballs.

Thus begins the long L.A. chapter of this tour. This weekend I'll be serving as a personal chef for the immortal Mr. David J. Schow, as well as participating the very first Noir at the Bar L.A. But more on that tomorrow. Because now it's time for...

Postcard Update: Man, did I score some winners at a Shell gas station in Palm Springs. Two words: Sonny Bono. Cards are going out to Thomas L. in Columbia, SC; Michael DiG. in Collegeville, PA; Chris F. in Iowa City, IA; David P. in Putnam Valley, NY; Frank R. in Norwood, PA; Tom C. in Vegas; Oto O. in Serbia (oh yes, we do international here at Secret Dead Blog); Shawn C. in Victoria, TX; Brian M. in Ontario (Canada, too, ain't we hell); Eric H. in Alberta; Van C. in Jasper, TX; Brad S. in Tucson, AZ; Juan H. in Sewickley, PA; Jeff L. in Cedar Park, TX; Bruno R. in Barcelona; Steve M. in the UK; and finally, Tom B. in West Monroe, LA.

One last time (say it with me): Haboob.

Fun & Games Across America: Phoenix is Hot!

2011-07-13T19:53:00.001-04:00

In just a few hours I'll be visiting a bookstore I've been dying to visit for years now: the legendary Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, AZ. I'll be doing a joint appearance with Michael (A Bad Night's Sleep) Wiley, Harry (Very Bad Men) Dolan and Thomas (Steal the Show) Kaufman at 7 p.m. If you're anywhere in Greater Phoenix area, stop by! Granted, the "Greater Phoenix" area seems to stretch for hundreds of miles in every direction... but you know what I mean.

Afterward, I'll be hanging with Crime Factory publisher -- and all-around cool guy -- Keith Rawson, who wants to ply me with alcohol then do a video interview. Little does he know that I have a legendary tolerance, even in this high heat. So the chances of me doing something embarrassing on video thanks to some booze is next to nil. Then again, I usually manage to embarrass myself while stone cold sober. Either way, looking forward to the grilling

A full update on tonight's events... sometime tomorrow!

Postcard update: A mix of Wild West and Arizona postcards are going out to Joe O'T. in... er, Phoenix, AZ (consider it a touch of home); Laurel K. in Pensacola, FL; Tod C. in Horizon City, TX; Ezra W. in Philly; Dan M. in Roseville, MN; Janice S. in Santa Clara, CA; Ben N. in San Francisco, CA; Adam R. in Denton, TX; Lee E. in Pinon Hills, CA; Cotton C. in Upland, CA; Brian L. in Norwich, CT; Sean M. in Muncie, IN; Lola F. in NYC; Holt K. in Albuquerque, NM; Troy K. in Collierville, TN; Thomas P. in San Diego, CA: Robert F. in Vernon Hills, IL; Sean P. in Philly; Joe J. in Fresno, CA; Bradley McL. in El Lay; and Tim T. in Las Cruces, NM.

Fun & Games Across America: The Deepest Heart of Texas

2011-07-12T23:18:00.004-04:00

It's been an obscene number of miles since my last post. Something like a thousand, and change... maybe more? But let me bring everyone up to speed. Sunday morning, the Secret Dead Blog tour bus (actually, a minivan) pulled out of Austin for the short, easy jaunt down to San Antonio, where we had enough time for a quick stroll through the Alamo:

They say you should remember the Alamo, but it's probably more important to remember the Alamo's business hours, because you ain't seeing shit after 5:30 p.m. Lucky for us we caught it during morning hours. However, as noon approached, we sped up Broadway for a quick drop-in signing at The Twig Book Shop, located at the former Pearl Brewery site:

It's a very cool store, especially if you have little ones along for the ride. And if you happen to be in the greater San Antonio area and are looking for a signed copy of Fun & Games, this is your joint. Meeting us at the store were writer/editor Scott Cupp and his lovely wife Sandi, who showed us the San Antonio sights, including my new favorite Mexican restaurant, Mi Tierra:

When we arrived for lunch, the wait was something like 90 minutes. But we didn't mind, because Scott and Sandi took us to the market across the street where you could find anything from knock-off Batman lucha libre masks to Day of the Dead figurines to leather bullwhips to Mexican wedding shirts. (Almost bought one of those, just to stun Noir at the Bar goers this weekend.) Huge thanks to the Cupps for the excellent company. And for spoiling my children absolutely rotten.

Monday was all about the grueling trip from San Antonio to El Paso... 558 miles, to be exact. Plenty of people warned me about how mind-numbing this trip could be. And yeah, it was a lot of this:

Repeat for 558 miles. Actually, it's all kind of beautiful, in a stark kind of way. There were more mountains and hills than I expected. And there is something strangely fun about knowing there's not another rest area for, oh, 90 miles or so. (Double your points if you have children in the car.) We were happy, though, to jump off the I-10 at the Fabens exit and wander five miles into the desert to visit Cattleman's Steakhouse, which was recommended to us by El Paso resident Tod Clark. (Thanks, Tod.) Not only is it a very fine eatery, but the ranch also served as the set to countless flicks, including The Border, Courage Under Fire, On the Border, The Day After Tomorrow, and Walter Hill's Extreme Prejudice, as evidenced by this clapboard hanging on the wall:

And you have to love a place that keeps a children's zoo in close proximity to a snake pit. Because, you know, the snakes must get hungry:

Sadly I did not see much of El Paso, which happens to be the home of one of my favorite rockers, Bobby Fuller (of Bobby Fuller Four fame). There's even a Bobby Fuller Drive, I believe. But I was too exhausted to do anything but lug the luggage into the room, write out a bunch of postcards, write some funnybook pages, then pass out as gracefully as possible.

Speaking of...

Postcard update: Found a lot of great (and truly weird) postcards on the road between San Antonio and El Paso. These have gone out to Adam L. in State College, PA; Dave R. in Plymouth, MI; Andy B. in Philly; Angie B. in Pleasantville, NJ; Keith B. in Youngsville, NC; Kelly H. in Milwaukee, WI; Jason C. in Plaquemine, LA; Roman C. in Ardmore, PA; Russ M. in Novato, CA; Richard L. in Las Vegas; John D. in Farmland, IN; Craig Z. in Port Orange, FL; Ali H. in Feasterville, PA; Rafael C. in Philly; Tim H. in Columbia, SC; Andrew N. in Richmond, VA; Brian J. in Philly; Derrick B. in Clinton Twp., MI; Howard R. in El Lay; Andy M. in Memphis, TN; and finally, my old colleague Nicole Y. in Philly. Enjoy!

Tomorrow: Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, AZ! More heat! More driving! More postcards!

Fun & Games Across America: Beer and Chili in Austin

2011-07-10T21:14:00.002-04:00

Lane Madden's Austin doppleganger?

Every town deserves an indie bookstore like Book People in Austin, Texas. It's not just the size (huge), nor the selections (smart and cool), but the thoughtfulness, down to the last detail, including the signage and shelf talkers. It's possibly the most inviting bookstore I've ever visited. I pretty much could live inside this store.

Of course, it doesn't hurt that they make visiting pulp hacks feel like freakin' rock stars:

Soooo many bonus points for spelling my last name right.

I'll admit it; I was a little nervous headlining my own event after the awesome turnout for Abbott-Gran-Swierczy jawn in Houston. Even with the promise of free beer (a variety of Shiner beers, no less)... nothing's guaranteed. But I'm happy to report that the turnout was fantastic. Even better, everyone came armed with some great questions. And they even raised their bottles of Shiner for y'all:

Note how very few people chose the front row, as if I'm the Gallagher of crime fiction, spewing profanity, beer suds, bullets and blood everywhere.

Seated next to me behind that big wooden table was my buddy (and Book People Mystery manager) Scott Montgomery, who kept the conversation flowing with a lot of sharp questions and observations. You know, the kind that make you seem smarter than you really are. Scott also sold me two books that I'm eager to read: Benjamin Whitmer's Pike and Caryl Férey's Zulu. (I suppose I was in a mood for crime novels with four-letter titles.)

After the event, a small crew of us (Scott, Book People employee Joe, and hot sauce czar Jeff) retired to the infamous Texas Chili Parlor, one of my favorite places in Austin:

Tarantino fans will know it as the setting for the first half of Death Proof. The food and beers were savory. I'm a Yankee spice wimp, so I stuck with a starter bowl of the mild chili. Our new pal Jeff ordered the "XXX" chili, which should have shut down his central nervous system and guaranteed that he'd have to refrigerate his toilet paper for at least a week. Well, Jeff didn't even flinch. In fact, he asked me if our orders had gotten mixed up, as if maybe he'd received the mild instead. Goddamn showoff.

Postcard update: Oh, did I find some stone-cold winners at Book People. Anyway, cards going out to Marty McC. in Cambridge, MA; Andy J. in Jenkintown, PA; Jan L. in West Covina, CA; Kenny T. in Union, NJ; John M. in Derby, KS; Paul O. in Redding, CA; Alex C. in Anaheim, CA; Chris LaT. in Missoula, MT; Robert K. in Little Falls, NY; Ron E.P. in Charleston, WV; Aaron R. in Jefferson CIty, MO; Joseph H. in Las Vegas; Kris E. in Des Plaines, IL; Nelson "Nasty Bo" McL. in Etters, PA; Lonnie V. in Castalia, OH; Tim O'B. in Port Townsend, WA; John N. in El Lay; Patrick L. in Tustin, CA; Theron K. in Long Island City, NY. I've been having a lot of fun writing these postcards, by the way. Sure, my hand ends up cramped to all hell... but there's something wonderfully old-fashioned about the whole thing. And I really love that some of you have been posting pics of the cards on Twitter, letting me know they arrived safe and sound.

Tomorrow morning: The San Antonio lowdown! More postcards! More stories about beer and Mexican food!

Fun & Games Across America: San Antonio by High Noon

2011-07-10T08:57:00.001-04:00

Last night's event at Book People was fantastic; look for a longer post (with pics!) on that later. Just wanted to spread the last-minute word that I'll be at The Twig Bookshop (200 E. Grayson, Suite 124) in San Antonio today at high noon today, signing copies of Fun & Games. No formal talk or reading. Just me and a pile of books. Stop by and say hello!

It's just about 8 a.m., which means I need to pack and haul ass down I-35.

Postcard update: I procured all kinds of awesome postcards at Book People that will MELT YOUR FACES. Word on the lucky recipients later.

Fun & Games Across America: Noir Night in Houston

2011-07-09T09:34:00.003-04:00

I've honestly lost track of how many times I've signed at Houston's wonderful Murder By the Book. Pretty sure I've been here for nearly every book, including Damn Near Dead, the "geezer noir" anthology I edited for David Thompson's Busted Flush Press. So would that be six now? Seven? All I know is each time is just as much fun as the first.

This time I was lucky enough to team up with Megan Abbott and Sara Gran, who are not only smart and hilarious, but pretty damned sick, too. As Noir Night 2011 attendees can tell you, the conversation took some really strange turns. We somehow managed to cover noir films without crimes, adolescent sexuality, genre-hopping, suburban psychodrama, mosquito-borne diseases, parenting, the importance of place in writing and Rosemary's Baby, all in one rambling session.

Behind the table with Abbott, Gran.

And then we signed books. Lots and lots and lots of books, both old and new, which is always a delight. Afterward we hit the jam-packed Raven Grill for dinner with the MBTB gang, where conversation took even stranger turns... including the realization that all three of us panelists are almost exactly the same age, and all of us read Bret Easton Ellis's Less Than Zero at just the right, tender, impressionable age. (Unlike Ms. Abbott and Ms. Gran, however, I was never an impressionable 13-year-old girl, despite what they may have alleged at the panel.) The night ended back at the shop with a 12-pack of Shiner Bock and even more conversation. Seriously: get us going, and it's tough to shut us up.

Huge thanks to everyone who turned up, including (but not limited to) Scott Montgomery, Ed Mattingly, Michelle Isler, Scott Parker, Bill and Judy Crider, Karen Kowal (and thank you for the extremely lovely note), Hank Schwaeble and everyone else who I'm sadly blanking on right now.

Today: the mystery train rolls on to Austin, just three short hours away, for "Happy Hour with Duane Swierczynski" at BookPeople, 5 p.m. Sadly, it's just me this time... but did I mention there's free beer? So stop on over if you're anywhere near Austin and thirsty.

Postcard update: Struck out yesterday finding postcards. Will stop at roadside gas stations on the road to Austin to pick up some winners. I seem to remember one tourist trap-style place out somewhere near La Grange...

Fun & Games Across America: Gone to Texas

2011-07-08T10:06:00.001-04:00

Yes, those are a pair of silver testicles hanging from the back of that truck. Yes, I'm in Texas.

The trip across the I-10 in Louisiana was long, and it took us through the largest swamp in the U.S. (the Atchafalaya Basin) as well as "Crawfish Country." Every other billboard advertised either crawfish or crawdads, as well as boudin and cracklins (that's sausage and pork rinds to you Yanks). When we crossed the Texas border, however... damn, you could feel the Texas-ness of it all. The big sky does seem a bit more expansive. The highways wider. The spaces more open. Not to mention that everything is suddenly in-yo-face TEXAS. The local Burger Kings don't serve ordinary Whoppers; they feature TEXAS WHOPPERS. There are silhouettes of the state everywhere--on billboards, on restaurant signage, on the support columns of the highways... I wouldn't be surprised to find little Texas-shaped cakes in every roadside urinal. Y'all sure do love your state.

And you know what? I do, too.

Tonight I'm lucky enough to be part of Murder By the Book's Noir Night 2011 with superstars Megan Abbott and Sara Gran. This will be a homecoming in a lot of ways, because my very first appearance as a novelist was at the store's first "Noir Night" back in 2005, along with Ken Bruen, Jason Starr, Allan Guthrie and J.D. Rhoades. This was back when Secret Dead Men had barely just appeared from Point Blank Press, and many months before The Wheelman was published. (I was so green I could have sung a duet with Kermit the Frog.) The night was epic. Many beers were consumed, friendships were forged, and at least one anthology (Damn Near Dead) was hatched.

I'll admit it; tonight will be bittersweet, since this is will be my first event at MBTB without my friend David Thompson. It's always going to feel strange to be in Houston and not see David. But I'm very much looking forward to seeing McKenna, Anne, John, and the rest of the MBTB family who have always made this Philly boy feel right at home deep in the heart of you-know-where.

Anywhere near Houston? YOU MUST ATTEND. C'mon, it's Abbott! Gran! Me! Murder By the Book is at 2342 Bissonnet Street, Houston, Texas, not far from Rice University. Can't make it, and want some signed books? Call (713) 524-8597, or (888) 4-AGATHA and we'll personalize the living hell out of them.

Postcard update: Haven't been out to buy any postcards yet, but will do so today. Stay tuned...

Fun & Games Across America: French Quarter, Garden District

2011-07-06T23:02:00.002-04:00

Many friends told me that I was insane for visiting New Orleans in July -- that my pale Yankee ass would spontaneously combust upon contact with the humid atmosphere of the Big Easy. And yes, sure, it was ridiculously hot touring the French Quarter this morning. But you learn to adapt. When the sweat starts to pour down your face, you simply duck into whatever shop is closest, because the air conditioning is sure to be blasting full-tilt. Doesn't matter what kind of shop. Today I found myself in a praline store, a store that sold feathery masks and stuffed birds, a postal shop, and a hotel where William Faulkner, Truman Capote and Sherwood Anderson once stayed. (Okay, that last one was on the purpose; it was the Hotel Monteleone, and it's very much worth checking out if you're in town.)

New Orleans, I've learned, is all about going with the flow. You're not exactly in control of yourself, which is just how the city wants you. Just before noon today, when thunder boomed and wet fat drops started to fall, we ran across the street and into a restaurant that I half-remembered as advertising "live jazz brunch." The restaurants turned out to be The Court of Two Sisters, and both the food (a hot and cold buffet) and live jazz (a bass, banjo and clarinet trio) turned out to be pretty amazing, especially as it pissed down hard outside. There is no better place to be stranded, especially when you have a bowl of jambalaya and a couple of Sazeracs to keep you company.

Of course, I did manage to make a few intentional stops, such as visiting the Faulkner House Bookshop. Small place, but what a treat. I picked up Faulkner's first two novels, Soldiers' Pay and Mosquitoes, as well as Thinking of Home: William Faulkner's Letters to His Mother and Father, 1918-1925 and a hardcover edition of one of my favorite books, Some Time in the Sun by Tom Dardis. Faulkner's Mosquitoes will be the book that resonates with me this whole dang road trip; my legs have been absolutely savaged by the little bastards.

Later in the afternoon, I set off down lovely St. Charles Street with my bodyguard (that would be my eight-year-old daughter Sarah) for a drop-in signing at Octavia Books, which is a fantastic indie store in the uptown area. Not only did I sign some copies of Fun & Games, but they also had a whole bunch of copies of the new edition of The Perfect Drink For Every Occasion, the cocktail guide I wrote almost a decade ago. Meanwhile, Sarah picked up a Diary of a Wimpy Kid book and two pens that allegedly last for seven years. Huge thanks to Mark for making us feel right at home.

Next stop: the Garden District Book Shop, where I signed copies of Fun & Games and talked smack about Sara Gran and Megan Abbott with the store's manager, Ted. (Just kidding, guys. We were singing your praises... honest!) I picked up a copy of Wicked New Orleans: The Dark Side of the Big Easy by Troy Taylor, while Sarah bought a copy of Roald Dahl's The BFG and a journal with a fur cover. Again, a great indie store, and one I heartily recommend you visit if you're ever in the NOLA area.

Tomorrow the tour continues to Houston, which I consider a second home. (Seriously, I've been there more times than any other city besides Philly.) Can't wait to hang with the aforementioned Ms. Gran and Ms. Abbott, as well as my good friends at Murder By the Book. Check my Twitter feed for road updates along the I-10 from New Orleans all the way across the Texas border.

Postcard update: Oh, man, did I score some insane postcards today from all over the French Quarter. Cards going out to Richard P. in Jefferson City, MO; Jim O'G in Omaha, NE; John B. in NYC; Raphael W. in the UK; Bradley McL in L.A; Brian B. in Belleville, IL; Peter V. in Arlington Heights, IL; Gene Z. in Milpitas, CA; Michael K. in Boone, NC; Peter F. in Acworth, GA; Nick T. in Irving, TX; Mark T. in Missoula, MT; Marc M. in Levittown, PA; Steph C. in Las Vegas, NV; Matthew J. in NYC; Luke E. in Madison, WI; Greg B. in Tinley Park, IL and Jim R. in Fort Worth, TX... as well as one wildly inappropriate card to my literary agent, David Hale Smith (because that's how I roll).

Fun & Games Across America: The Road to New Orleans

2011-07-06T10:42:00.002-04:00

A warm, heavy lashing of rain welcomed us as we made the final approach to New Orleans yesterday. You know... just to keep us on notice. The trip across the rest of the Florida panhandle, Alabama and Mississippi was more or less uneventful... except for this massive traffic jam just outside Mobile. I think I managed to cover 10 miles in an hour, inching along, no end in sight... until we finally reached the tunnel that shoots you under Mobile (and looks uncomfortably like a a giant white drain as designed by Steve Jobs.)

This morning's agenda: wander to the French Quarter to look around and buy a metric shit-ton of postcards. Check my Twitter feed (@swierczy) for pics and such. This afternoon I'll be wandering over to the Garden District (and Uptown) to visit Octavia Books and the Garden District Bookshop, and will offer a full report later.

Is it possible that I'm adjusting to Central Time, still? Feeling a little dislocated... then again, that could just be the Big Easy working on me.

Postcard update: None now, but look for a whole mess of 'em later.

Fun & Games Across America: Across the Panhandle

2011-07-05T07:45:00.002-04:00

Today's a travel day, zooming through the rest of the Florida panhandle after a layover in Tallahassee. The visitors' center on I-95, just over the Georgia border, gives you a free shot of Florida orange juice. I thought this was a brilliant idea, and yesterday mused on Twitter that Pennsylvania should give tourists a shot of Cheez Whiz as they enter. (Other Tweeps mused possibilities for other locales: @BenoitLeLievre suggested a "mouthful of poutine" for Montreal; @FrankWheelerJr suggested corn on the cob, a steak, and a Huskers t-shirt for when you cross the Missouri River into Nebraska; @tinapporter and @PhillyPoeGuy both suggested adding scrapple to that Philly Cheez Whiz at the border.)

Anyway, no big update today... but this is just the calm before the storms of New Orleans, Houston, Austin and San Antonio (today through Sunday). Lots of bookstores to visit, including the Garden District Bookshop and Octavia Books (in New Orleans) tomorrow. Also kind of dying to check out the Faulkner House Books in the French Quarter.

Postcard update: No postcards today. Saving the next wave for N'Awlins, but will also pick up some Florida beauties along the way today.

Fun & Games Across America: Oh, Savannah

2011-07-04T09:03:00.004-04:00

Happy Independence Day to all my fellow Americans.

And what better way to celebrate our freedom than a cheesecake Marilyn Monroe moment, immortalized in plaster?

Yesterday was a taking-it-easy kind of day in lovely Savannah, hanging around the Ellis Square area (where I saw that Monroe statue), then later, the walk along River Street. And while the heat was kind of on the oppressive side, a warm breeze would waft its way from the river every so often and kinda sorta wick away the sweat. I'm the kind of old-school guy who carries a linen handkerchief in my pocket to wipe away the sweat, and by the end of the day, I could have wrung the sucker out. If I had a straw hat and a seersucker suit I might be able to tolerate this kind of heat on a regular basis.

My favorite part of the River Street area? The crazy Exorcist-style stone steps leading down from Bay Street. I mean, look at this:

The crime writer in me is so jonesin' to set a chase/gunfight here. (This is why crime writers are rarely invited places. We ruin everything!)

E. Shaver, the bookstore recommended to me by my friend Andy Junkin, was indeed closed (it being Sunday), but I'm hoping to return one day to check it out. And when I return, I hope to finally meet up with my favorite Savannah resident, book blogger Elizabeth A. White (a.k.a. @APMonkey to you folks on the Twitters). Again, just more reason to return.

Today we'll be spending the Fourth making our way down to Florida, and eventually, Tallahassee. Shockingly, this will be my first time ever in the state of Florida. How did I live almost four decades without migrating South?

Postcard update: Today a set of Savannah postcards are going out to Kevin B. in Ocean City, NJ; Peter D. in Chanhassen, MN; Jeff Z. in Daytona Beach, FL; Laszlo D. in West Hills, CA: Kevin T. in Whittier, CA; Josh L. in Parkersburg, WV; Bob G. in Cincinnati, OH; Hassan A. in Calabasas, CA; and Jeff M. in Exton, PA.

Fun & Games Across America: Doing the Charleston, Plus: The Tour Expands

2011-07-03T09:49:00.001-04:00

Yesterday Secret Dead Blog hit Charleston. Hard. First stop, on the suggestion of Wyn in yesterday's comments: Blue Bicycle Books. The shop itself is just like its stock: narrow yet deep. Lots of great local books, a cool, eclectic lit section, small-ish but well-chosen mystery and sci-fi shelves, as well as military history and a kids/YA room (where the daughter picked up the first Lemony Snicket book), and of course, like all great bookstores, a sleeping cat. My daughter would not let this poor cat rest. She sat down next to it as it lounged in a metal chair and stared at it until she practically willed it awake. My favorite part of the shop? A big poster for Kerouac's On the Road tucked in the very back:

Next we toured the waterfront park where we watched one of those big-ass, top-heavy Carnival cruise ships disembark, gliding past the USS Yorktown docked in Charleston Harbor. It was a strange clash of vessels; I couldn't help but think about the men who fought and died on one ship to preserve the buffet rights of the people on the other ship. Later, we hit the four blocks of the Old City Market, wandered down East Bay Street where I snapped a photo of "Charleston's Tightest Bar" (see top of this post) and eventually the eye-popping houses/mansions along the Battery. The heat and humidity was unreal, at least to this northern-blooded boy. I suppose you just have to surrender to it, right?

Today it's out of the frying pan and into the fire as the road trip continues down to Savannah, Georgia. If you have any indie bookstore suggestions, fire away!

Also: the F&G tour has expanded in the past few days. I'm happy to report that I'll be a featured speaker at the very first Noir at the Bar L.A. on July 17th, hosted by Stephen Blackmoore, Eric Beetner and Aldo Calcagno, and with readings by Holly O'Neill, Josh Stallings, as well as Messrs. Blackmoore and Beetner.

And I'll be doing drop-in signings at two bookshops in New Orleans this Wednesday:

GARDEN DISTRICT BOOKSHOP
2727 Prytania Street
New Orleans, LA 70130
504-895-2266
http://www.gardendistrictbookshop.com/

OCTAVIA BOOKS
513 Octavia Street
New Orleans, LA 70115
504-899-7323
http://www.octaviabooks.com/

I'll keep you guys posted on possible times, but know that these fine stores will have signed copies of F&G in stock should you desire some.

Postcard update: Today we've got Charleston, SC cards going out to Pierluigi C. in L.A.; Erik A. in Lebanon, PA; Lauren O'B in Alameda, CA; Tim T. in NYC; Ed S. in Philly; Danny B. in Philly; Dave S. in Philly and Rusty R. in Hyattsville, MD. Enjoy!

Fun & Games Across America: Charleston

2011-07-02T09:56:00.001-04:00

Secret Dead Blog is writing you from a hotel room in Charleston, South Carolina. Yesterday was a long haul behind the wheel, 13 hours total (left Philadelphia just before 5 a.m.; rolled into the Greater Charleston Area just before 6 p.m.), whizzing down I-95 just fast enough to stay in the game, yet not quite fast enough to attract the attention of the many, many highway patrolmen in unmarked sedans. Saw a lot of people pulled over yesterday, which makes sense, this being a holiday weekend. Also saw a car that had apparently rocketed off the highway with such velocity that it had spun around and landed backwards in a cluster of trees, headlights facing us. Miraculously, the driver seemed to be okay, standing on the side of the road with a dazed What the hell just happened? look on his face. Anyway, be safe out there.

When you travel down I-95, you're pretty much secluded from seeing much of the eastern seaboard. Saw the Baltimore skyline, but nothing of D.C. or Richmond or nearby Raleigh or any other city or town of note... except for the infamous "South of the Border," a Mexican-themed tourist trap that starts assaulting you with billboards a good 100 miles out. South of the Border is just south of the border between North and South Carolina; I can't explain the Mexican thing, because, um, it's freakin' nowhere near Mexico. But they did have a RoboCop arcade game in the ice cream shop, which thrilled me to no end.

Also visited with friends who live next to a creek and saw two lazy alligators, a gang of angry fire ants, and a lot of mosquitoes who enjoyed dive bombing me. So yeah, the South so far: Packed with creatures that are all bitey.

Postcard Update: While at South of the Border I picked up some fairly goofy and surreal postcards will be going out to Mike O. in Eureka, IL; John S. in Santa Clara, CA; Sharif Y. in Chicago, IL; David F. in Montclair, NJ; Jeff M. in Fairfield, CT; John H. in Walnut Creek, CA; Luke B. in Lansdale, PA. Enjoy!

Going to check out Charleston proper today. If you know of any good bookstores in the area (or suggestions in general), let me know in the comments below. Also would welcome suggestions on how to avoid creatures that bite.

Fun & Games Across America: Ocean (and Atlantic) City

2011-06-30T15:58:00.002-04:00

While the road trip proper begins tomorrow, the first official stop of the Fun & Games Across America tour was a reading and signing at the Ocean City Free Public Library this past Monday night. I had an absolute blast thanks to my supercool hosts, Allison Moonitz and Kevin Bligh. I also couldn't have asked for a better audience. Friendly, full of great questions (I thrive on questions at these sorts of things) and most importantly, they were kind as I fumbled through a sample from my own novel. One cool cat even asked me to sign the back of his Nook, and the entire time I was worried that I'd misspell my own name, thus ruining his fancy reading device. (Hope I didn't screw it up, Frank.) Big thanks to the library for having me, and to everyone who stopped by.

Kieran Shea filed his own report of the event which is full of slander and lies, but what're ya gonna do?

And I recorded a podcast Q&A with the aforementioned Mr. Bligh; I'll post a link when it's available.

We stayed in nearby Atlantic City, because I like a good spectacle just like the rest of you. I was amused to see a giant Boardwalk Empire billboard hanging on the side of the swank mall/pier directly across from Caesars. Also amused to see a row of Hangover-themed slot machines, though I think it would have been more interesting if the machine slipped its losing players a roofie or two.

And of course I bought the first round of postcards (shown above) for the pre-order crowd. Cards this time went out to Sabrina O. in Magna, Utah; Adam B. in Brookline, MA; Michael W. in Lunenburg, MA; Corey S. in Parkersburg, WV; and finally Drew D. in Hatboro, PA. Your thank-you postcards are on the way, if they haven't arrived already.

Tomorrow: Goin' south.

Fun & Games Across America: The Tour

2011-06-25T09:36:00.005-04:00

Everyone in publishing these days is talking about the futility of author tours, but Secret Dead Blog isn't listening to any of that jazz. Starting next Friday, I'll be taking off in the family truckster (along with the family) and driving across the southern half of America, first heading down the coast to Charleston, then Savannah, followed by one insanely long stretch on the I-10 all the way to Los Angeles. Along the way, I'll be doing drop-in signings and honest-to-goodness bookstore appearances, as well as writing postcards to 164 of you until my hand falls off.

If you don't live anywhere near the I-10, don't worry. You'll be able to follow all of the action from this blog. I've been inspired by reading David Dodge's classic travel memoirs from the late 1940s/1950s (as well as repeated viewings of National Lampoon's Vacation over the years), so I might try my hand as a sort-of travelogue thingy on this blog along the way.

Here's the formal schedule through mid-July; check back for updates beyond that.

Monday, June 27
Ocean City Free Public Library
Ocean City, NJ
7:00 p.m.

Friday, July 8
Noir Night 2011, with Megan Abbott and Sara Gran
Murder By the Book
Houston, TX
6:30 p.m.

Saturday, July 9
MysteryPeople Presents Happy Hour With Duane Swierczynski
Book People
Austin, TX
5 p.m.

Sunday, July 10
The Twig Book Shop
San Antonio, TX
Time TBD

Wednesday, July 13
Signing with Harry Dolan, Michael Wiley and Thomas Kaufman
Poisoned Pen
Scottsdale, AZ
7 p.m.

Along the way, there will be stops in Charleston, Savannah, Tallahassee, New Orleans and El Paso, so if you know of any great indie bookshops (or giant balls of twine, stick insect museums, etc.) in these cities, let me know in the comments below.

By July 15th we'll be in L.A. No appearances scheduled there yet (I'm still in a weird denial about the Mystery Bookstore closing), but I'll definitely be stopping by some of my favorite shops, such as Skylight Books in Los Feliz and The Iliad in North Hollywood as a civilian.

I'll also be at San Diego Comic-Con for one day only (Thursday, July 21), signing at the Mulholland Books/Hachette Booth at 2 p.m., and then heckling Charlie Huston at his panel at 3 p.m. More details to follow.

Hope to see some of you on the road...

(Clark Griswold image from DoBlu.com.)

Fun & Games Giveaway: We Have Winners!

2011-06-21T21:35:00.002-04:00

Let me start by offering huge thanks to the 164 kind souls who pre-ordered a copy of Fun & Games and entered this slightly-goofy giveaway. That means 164 of you will be receiving personalized postcards this summer from stops along my book tour/road trip which kicks off next week. I'm ticking down the list in order, so the earliest adopters can expect a very tacky postcard from either Atlantic City or Ocean City, NJ, where I'm speaking next week. (Details on the full tour stops coming... tomorrow!)

Five of you, however, scored one of the big prizes. I used a site called Random.org to generate a truly random sequence of numbers, and then simply matched the first five numbers to the pre-order list. And the winners are (full names hidden to protect their secret identities)...

1. Jeff M. in Exton, PA
2. Jeff M. in Fairfield, CT
3. Matthew J. in New York, NY
4. Drew D. in Hatboro, PA
5. Michael K. in Boone, NC

It's kind of strange that the winners are all on the East Coast, because folks from all over the country (and world, actually) entered. And two Jeffs in the top slots? But the drawing process was truly random. This is why math confuses me...

Anyway, a hearty (or should I say Hardie) congrats to the grand prize winners! I'll be emailing you guys individually to talk prizes.

But remember: everybody wins! As I blog from the road, I'll list whose postcards are going out, and from which stop, so you'll know (vaguely) when to expect them. Apologies in advance if the postcards reek of barbecue and/or booze.

Thanks again, everyone. All of you are on my Official Cool People List.

(Image: New Orleans Beaux Arts Ball, November 1952, courtesy Google's Life Magazine archive.)

Here Comes the Fun

2011-06-19T10:09:00.001-04:00

Well, tomorrow's the official pub date of Fun & Games, though copies have been leaking out into the wild for a good couple of weeks. I have that familiar cocktail of pre-release excitement and worry roiling around in my guts. Will you guys dig it? Did I screw up any of the California details? Was my name misspelled on the spine of the book?

But such worries have been alleviated by a lot of kind e-mails and Tweets from early F&G readers, as well as this very cool review by Marilyn Stasio in the New York Times Book Review, who called the novel "so much fun to read--on the couch or on the run."

And just this morning I woke up to see that a Q&A I did with CNN's Christian DuChateau was linked on the site's home page. (Quite a nice Father's Day present, I must say.)

All of this follows on the heels of Elizabeth A. White's "Swierczynski Week," in which she sullied the good name of her otherwise excellent book blog with reviews of my stuff.

Meanwhile, it's not too late to enter the Fun & Games Giveaway! You can find the complete details (and entry form) right here, but in short: if you pre-order/order a copy between now and midnight tomorrow (Monday, June 20th), I'll be sending you a personalized post card from somewhere on my book tour this summer. And five random winners will score other pulpy prizes, including the right to name a character in the third Charlie Hardie novel.

Secret Dead Guest Post: Jason Starr!

2011-06-07T11:12:00.002-04:00

Secret Dead Blog was a rabid fan of Jason Starr's novels long before we met him, starting with the brilliant, creepy and unputdownable Hard Feelings (2002). Somehow, we remained rabid fans even after meeting him. (Ah, we kid Mr. Starr. He knows that.) Anyway, Jason's out with a new novel today, The Pack (Ace) which literally just arrived here at Secret Dead Blog HQ minutes ago. Jason will be appearing at the Mysterious Bookshop in New York City tomorrow night; in the meantime, listen to him spin some lies about us and hear more about The Pack, his first horror noir.

Me, Duane, Prom Dates, and The Pack
By Jason Starr

Many thanks to Duane for letting me sabotage his blog today. He gave me strict instructions before he left for the day:

No drinking

No drugs

No loud music

No sex in his bed

Then with an ultra-serious expression he added:

And No Ken Bruen

Yeah, sure, Duane, yep, no problem (as Ken and I put on our Tom Cruise-in-Risky Business sunglasses).

It’s hard to believe it’s been about seven about years since I met Duane. Secret Dead Men was about to be published and he’d come up from Philly to meet me, Ken, and Reed Coleman at the bar at Ken’s hotel (the Mansfield, of course). Duane was a huge Ken fanboy and brought all sorts of exotic gifts for Ken from his native land:

Cheese steak

A Phillies cap

Pop Tarts

I think Duane was a little flustered meeting Ken for the first time and right after we toasted his first pint slipped out of his hand and spilled all over my lap. Then, a few minutes later, Duane’s prom date strolls into the bar! Seriously, what were the odds? Of all the gin joints…Duane hadn’t seen her in about fifteen years and they had a lot of catching up to do, so that was the end us for the rest of the night.

(Duane will claim that some of this didn’t happen exactly the way I’ve described but, trust me, about 90 percent of this is true.)

Since that night, Duane went on to become one of the best crime writers in the business. I’m reading his new one right now, Fun and Games, and it’s blowing me away, like John Ridley meets Elmore Leonard on acid. Seriously, it’s the best thing Duane’s done (and that’s saying a lot) and I’ve been raving to everyone I know about it.

But enough about what I think of Duane, let’s get on to what I think of myself.

Yeah, I’m talking about a little BSP. As Bret Easton Ellis would say, “Deal with it. Rock ’n’ roll.”

My new book, The Pack, is out today and it’s different than anything I’ve done before. The first clue it’s different—you’ll probably find it in the general fiction or sci-fi section of your local bookstore. That said, there’s a lot of crime in it too, and it also has a horror element. It’s also a dark bromance story and a satire about New York and New Yorkers.

The idea for The Pack came about in when I was pitching ideas for movies and TV shows. I’ve done some screenwriting and I’m always looking to do more (as the old Yiddish saying goes, “Every singer wants to be a dancer”). When I pitched the basic story for The Pack, about a stay-at-home dad who bonds with a group of dads at a New York playground and discovers they have a very dark secret, the producer suggested that I write it as a novel. After The Chill (my 2010 graphic novel for Vertigo Crime), I had been thinking about writing a novel that pushed me into a new direction and my agent liked the idea so I was off and running.

Another departure for me with The Pack is it’s the first book in a series. Aside from the books I’ve written with Ken Bruen, all my novels have been standalones (and many of my characters have ended up physically unable to go on to another book). So with The Pack I had to make sure that at least some of my characters survive, which I discovered is not an easy thing to do. It’s just so tempting and fun to kill off my fictional characters. There were so many times I wanted to blow away my most likable characters in The Pack spectacularly gruesome ways and I had to say to myself, Easy now boy, let’s rein it in.

If you want to catch Duane and me in action, we will be on a New York Public Library together next Wednesday, June 15. I guarantee we’ll put on a better show than the last time we paneled together at Bouchercon in Madison a few years ago. It was hardboiled authors vs. cozy authors panel and Duane, Megan Abbott and I were massacred. Man, what a train wreck that was. Imagine 45 minutes of awkward pauses and us exchanging looks of, Why don’t you take this one? The highlight, or lowlight, of the night was when we brought out our secret weapon—an actual cat.

Whoops, gotta go—Ken Bruen’s calling me and we’re gonna share a line on Duane’s pillow.

Thanks for the time suck.

(SDB here again: The Pack is available right this very second. Order online, or visit your favorite indie bookshop or brick-and-mortar for your copy.)

Hard Case Returns... With Some Westlake in its Back Pocket

2011-06-04T19:07:00.002-04:00

If you're a Hard Case Crime fanatic like myself, the past year has felt a little like limbo, hasn't it? The last HCC release was back in August 2010, and every month since then I've been glancing at my TBR pile with a forlorn expression, missing those red-and-black-and-white spines with the yellow ribbon that represented my assurance of quality. (Sigh.)

Thankfully, we've all been sprung from purgatory. Hard Case Crime is officially back this September with out four new novels by Lawrence Block, Max Allan Collins, Mickey Spillane and Christa Faust. And February 2012 brings something I never thought I'd see again: a new Donald E. Westlake novel. Hard Case honcho Charles Ardai explains:

The book is called THE COMEDY IS FINISHED, and it's going to be our second hardcover ever. Don wrote it between the late 1970s and early 80s, but never published it because he found himself worrying that its premise -- the kidnapping of a famous television comedian -- was too similar to the movie "The King of Comedy," which Martin Scorsese released around the same time. He shouldn't have worried -- the book and the movie aren't similar at all outside of sharing that basic premise. It's a hell of a good book and one that very much deserves to be in print, and we're very excited to be bringing it out for the first time, with a fabulous cover by Greg Manchess.

While I hated the hiatus, I've gotta say... this news kind of made it worth the wait. And look at that gorgeous Manchess cover. Hard to say which is more risque; this one, or Manchess's cover for Lawrence Block's Getting Off.

Glad you're back, Hard Case.

Presenting... The Fun & Games Giveaway!

2011-06-02T07:33:00.004-04:00

Whenever you pre-order a book, you're giving the author a gift.

Seriously. Publishers and booksellers pay attention to pre-orders, big-time. (Authors, too. Show me a writer who doesn't track his Amazon sales rank like a wolf tracks wounded prey and I'll show you a writer who's unconscious and hooked up to life support.) If pre-orders are strong, everybody does a little happy dance.

So if you're pre-ordering my next novel, Fun & Games, you're giving me a gift. I'd like to give you a gift in return.

This summer I'm going to be traveling cross-country for the official "Fun & Games Across America Tour" (more on that soon). If you pre-order F&G at any time, right up until pub date (June 20th), I'll send you a personalized postcard from a random stop on my trip. Rest assured that I will choose the most tasteless and kitschy postcards possible from the creepiest, rundown roadside pit stops. (You're welcome!)

But that's not all. Five lucky winners will be plucked from the pre-order posse to receive one of these insanely fabulous prizes...

*A set of signed copies of my five previous novels (Secret Dead Men, The Wheelman, The Blonde, Severance Package, Expiration Date), personalized to your liking;

*A pulp fiction grab bag, straight from own library of vintage paperbacks (x2);

* A copy of Rockstar's smash hit video game, L.A. Noire (X-Box version);

* Or, finally, the GRAND PRIZE: the right to name a minor character in the third Charlie Hardie novel, Point & Shoot, which will be published next March. (And damn you if you choose the name "Bucky McFartLips.")

Sound good? Go ahead and pre-order from anywhere (indie stores, online booksellers, brick and mortar chains) and then fill out the handy form below. I'll take it from there. If you don't have a confirmation number, just leave that blank and email me some kind of proof at duane DOT swier AT verizon DOT net.

The five prizes are only valid for U.S. and Canadian readers only, unfortunately... but I'll send a postcard anywhere in the world. So really, everybody wins!

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Odds and Sods

2011-05-28T20:00:00.004-04:00

Been tidying up the desk here at Secret Dead Blog HQ and found a few items of note that I wanted to pass along...

* In case you haven't seen it yet, the story I wrote for L.A. Noire is now available for as a free download. (Scroll up and down on the same page for links to the other stories.) If you've been playing the game, you'll see that my tale ties right into the "Marriage Made in Heaven" story line.

* Annnnnd on June 6th, you'll be able to buy the complete e-collection for just 99 cents. Cheaper than a beer in the diviest of dives! You can pre-order a copy now at Amazon, Apple's iBooks, or Barnes & Noble.

* Keir Graff at Booklist asked me to recommend a book for their "Mystery Month" series, and I was more than happy to sing the praises of Jim Nisbet's brilliant Dark Companion.

* Fun & Games will be out in less than a month, and I'm happy to report that good reviews keep on rollin' in. The Library Journal says the novel is for "readers who like their action fast, brutal and smart" (and even provides a handy pronunciation key for my absurd surname). Meanwhile, The Mystery Site says that F&G is "fast-paced, well and not overly written."

* If you've pre-ordered Fun & Games, or are considering such a thing, watch this space in a few days. I've got something special in mind for you...

* And last, but nowhere near least, I'm proud to report that my previous novel, Expiration Date, has been nominated for an Anthony Award in the category of Best Paperback Original. (Mr. Goddard, we meet again!) The Anthony winner will be determined by votes from this year's Bouchercon attendees. In completely unrelated news, if you see me at Bouchercon, remind me that I owe you a drink. Several in fact. Here, I'll even hold your ballot so you can pick up that mega-sized cocktail with two hands... there you go... bottoms up...

The Secret Dead Blog Q&A: Dave White

2011-05-21T09:25:00.001-04:00

Award-winning crime novelist Dave White has been a friend of Secret Dead Blog for years now, though we're not sure why. The first time Secret Dead Blog met him, Dave made some crack expecting to see a fifty-five-year-old man. (At the time, Secret Dead Blog was 33.) But that was okay. Over the next two years, Secret Dead Blog left a series of increasingly absurd comments on Dave's blog under the pseudonym, "Abe Vigoda." At one point, "Abe Vigoda" even inspired a few copycat Abe Vigodas, which drove poor Dave out of his fool mind. Secret Dead Blog did not reveal the truth about Abe Vigoda until years (and we're talking years) later.

Anyway, Dave is out with an ass-kicking new novel called Witness to Death, so Secret Dead Blog thought it would be fun to ask him a few questions about it.

Secret Dead Blog: Witness to Death is your first stand-alone thriller. What inspired it? (Please tell me that it's totally autobiographical, because that will make my day.)

Dave White: Minus the explosions, vicious assassins, tasers, hand grenades, guns, knives, and running for your life, it was completely autobiographical.

That's actually not a lie. The main character, John Brighton, is -- well was -- a lot like me. He was a teacher in his late 20s, getting over a break-up, wondering if he's good at his job, and just basically trying to figure out who he is. Sounds like someone in a Nick Hornby novel, in a way. Someone dealing with those guy insecurities we're never allowed to talk about. Then I wanted to take that guy and stick him in a James Bond novel.

I grew up watching Bond, watching North By Northwest, and I loved those films. I wanted to write something like that, and it had to come from what I knew. And I knew me. So between that and a trip to Washington, DC where I got to hear all about a spies role in the War on Terrorism at the Spy Museum, the plot for the novel started to grow.

But the heart of the novel is autobiographical. There ya go, Duane. Day made.

SDB: You're bravely venturing into the e-book jungle. What's the best thing about it... and what's the worst?

DW: The best part is the control I have. I got to pick the cover, I got to have it formatted the way I wanted it. I put it up myself so I could choose when it went on sale. I love that. If the book succeeds it's because of me. If it fails, it's still because of me. There's a lot of freedom with that.

And, not to sound like a canned answer in a job interview, but the worst part is also having total control. I can check sales anytime I want and I can see when the book is moving and/or not moving. If it's not moving, I feel like I want to do something about it... I'm trying to implement some rules on myself (number of times I can check sales, how much I can post about the book and where)... but it's hard and it's really iPhone-like addictive.

SDB: Why did you ignore my sage advice and not kill Jackson Donne at the end of his first appearance in your acclaimed debut, When One Man Dies?

DW: He is dead. He died at the end of the first book. You just have to read between the lines to see it. And what's cool about that is... the second book, The Evil That Men Do is actually a really wild ghost story.

I took your advice, I just didn't want to tell you. How much credit can I give my mentor?

SDB: What's up next for you, novel or story-wise?

DW: There are a few things on the boiler. I have to write a few short stories that I'm not sure I'm allowed to talk about yet. I'm revising a serial killer novel about a man who's not really a serial killer. And I have an idea for a new PI and a new PI series that I want to work on. Lots of ideas, just gotta get 'em on paper. Or computer screen...

SDB: How angry were you when I confessed to being your "Abe Vigoda" stalker after all those years?

DW: I'm not sure I was angry as much as stunned. When you told me, it felt like the end of The Usual Suspects... all the pieces began to fall into place. All the clues made sense... the little hints. Of course, "Abe" was a kind of martyr... the end of his era seemed to touch of a continuous stream of anonymous or half-hearted celebrities who wanted to comment on my blog and make fun of me. Once I got over the stunned feeling, I think I actually ended up a bit impressed. You know how to keep a secret. Well done, sir.

Witness to Death is available at Amazon (for the amazing low price of 99 cents!) and Barnes & Noble (also only 99 cents). Pick up a copy, keep the kid out of trouble.

Fun, Games and Fire

2011-05-20T18:37:00.007-04:00

Behold... the cover for the German edition of my next novel, Fun & Games! You can click on the image for a larger view.

Let me point out a few things about this cover. For one thing, the title is not German for "fun and games"; that particular phrase does not translate. So instead, it's Der Bewacher, which according to my publisher means something like "the keeper" or "the minder," especially of property. Which makes perfect sense, because the series hero (Charlie Hardie) is a house sitter. The next two books in the series will follow a similar pattern: Hell & Gone will be called Der Wärter ("the warden"), and Point & Shoot will be called Der Retter ("the rescuer"). Not to spoil anything... but those titles are pretty spot-on.

Then there's a cover image itself, which is pretty damned Die Hard-ian, if you ask me. I love it. Yes, it points to a particular scene in the novel. Two scenes, in fact. It's also a nice change from my previous Heyne covers, which focused on a single element (a shovel, an hourglass, a champagne flute, etc.).

But the biggest change is the name. This is the debut of "Duane Swierczynski" in Germany. Previously, my novels appeared under the name of "Duane Louis" (my first and middle names). I've written about this before, so I won't bore you with the same old story one more time. I am curious to see if German readers will be as mystified by the pronunciation as American readers. (Remember kids, it's easy: sweer-ZIN-ski. Ask for it by name!)

Anyway, what do you guys think? Hot as hell, or a bit too 'splodey?

That's Noire With an "E," Pal

2011-05-03T15:51:00.005-04:00

I swear, I have the receipt to prove it.

I pre-ordered my copy of L.A. Noire, the forthcoming detective thriller game from Rockstar, back in January, many weeks before I even caught wind of any anthology, let alone the idea that I might be part of it. Now, I'm not much of a gamer. The last video game I really went wild for was Rockstar's Grand Theft Auto III way back in December 2001, in those lazy, crazy months before I became a father. (Our son Parker, the hardcore gamer in the family, was born the following March.)

But the siren call of L.A. Noire was too great to resist. Like GTA III, the game offers the opportunity to wallow in crime and mayhem in a sprawling urban environment. In GTA III, it was the fictional "Liberty City." In L.A. Noire, however, you're racing around a breathtakingly-accurate postwar Los Angeles, solving crimes straight out of the darkest film noirs and crime thrillers of that era. The game's out May 17, at which point my son Parker will have to surrender his X-Box controller for a few weeks. (Sorry, son. But I am bigger than you.)

This is why I was insanely excited to contribute a story to L.A. Noire: The Collected Stories, an anthology of eight tales spinning out of (and around) the L.A. Noire universe. The lineup (present company excluded) is flat-out stellar: Megan Abbott. Lawrence Block. Joe Lansdale. Joyce Carol Oates. Francine Prose. Jonathan Santlofer. Andrew Vachss. Each story will roll out separately over the next few weeks, and then released as a Mulholland Books ebook on June 6, complete with an introduction by Charles "Hard Case" Ardai. You can find the complete rundown of stories, along with a teaser excerpt of Megan Abbott's "The Girl," right here at the Rockstar website.

My contribution is called "Hell of An Affair," and I'll let you guys know the minute it's online. The best part of the research process was traveling up to Rockstar Games for a top-secret preview of the game. I am bound by nondisclosure agreements, so I can't reveal a blessed thing, but let me just say this: I am very, very glad I pre-ordered my copy. The boy will just have to deal with it.

The Lineup: Bargaining with David Corbett

2011-04-26T03:00:00.001-04:00

The Lineup is Gerald So's annual chapbook series of crime poetry, and issue #4 is out now, featuring work from such hardboiled types as Ken Bruen, Reed Farrel Coleman, David Corbett, Kieran Shea, Keith Rawson and Steve Weddle, among others. This latest installment is dedicated to the memory of my friend David Thompson, who Gerald writes was "the first bookseller to believe in The Lineup."

For the 26th stop on The Lineup's "So Dark For April" tour, I asked contributor David Corbett to answer a few of my silly questions about his excellent and disturbing contribution, "The Bargain" (reprinted below).

Secret Dead Blog: What kind of creative itch does a poem scratch -- as opposed to say a short story or a novel?

DC: Stories and novels involve dramatic movement. Even if "something happens" in a poem, the basic purpose is to convey a certain emotional moment. And the itch that gets scratched when writing a poem is the desire to find and somehow capture that unique moment. It's like trying to capture a sound or a tone rather than a conversation. Or at least that's how I approach it. I realize that's a terrible description of poetry overall -- it fails to account for Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner or Stevens' The Man with the Blue Guitar or Jeffers' Roan Stallion or any number of other large, complex or dramatic poems. But that sort of poetry is, frankly, beyond my skill set. So, it's moments for me.

SDB: "Bargain" is fantastic and utterly haunting. You've got a hint of redemption in there, but also a profound feeling of unease. Was there a particular inspiration for this poem?

DC: Well, thanks for the kind words. The poem was originally (and in a different version) written for my late wife when she was alive. My feelings for her were very much colored by my brother's death at age 39 . I realized that life is tenuous, unpredictable. And one day, I just noticed I was being kind to a fly or a moth that I might, at an earlier stage of my life, just crushed and been done with. But I felt a little more respectful given my newfound awareness of mortality.

Sadly, Terri (my wife) also died young, and the poem took on an even deeper, almost eerie resonance for me. But the crime angle only arose when I was asked to contribute to The Lineup, and I stepped back from the more personal aspect and saw it in a whole new light. I frankly couldn't tell you where the inspiration for that addition came from, it just appeared. But I think it does add an interesting element to the theme--of recognizing the fragility of life, and trying in a blatantly magical or ritualistic way to preserve the one life that has come to mean so much, and which the poem's "narrator" is terrified will be taken away suddenly, tragically, wrongly. A circumstance he knows too well.

SDB: Bugs? Did it have to be bugs?

DC: Creep ya out, did I? Bugs are "the least of creatures," as it were. We all too often kill them mindlessly. So changing that mindset, respecting even the lives of insects, means that death has finally registered in a truly profound way. Even bugs gets spared now -- that's what the guy is saying. As though to show he's atoned, that he gets it, and hoping that will mean something in the grand scheme of things -- while fearing it won't.

"Bargain"
By David Corbett

Since we met, fewer insects die.
Today (for example) you were gone
but a fat green fly hammered
blind against the window —
so I cracked it open and off he went:
tumbling wind, sunblue sky.

And last night you were out with the girls, but here
a brown moth scurried hot inside the lampshade —
I cupped my hand, nursed it
all the way downstairs, through the den,
cracked the door open: a tiny dark
flutter whirling toward the porch light.

Before only wasps survived —
menacing hang, throbbing wings,
hard and sleek and all that shiny black.

Her name? Ask the law. Ask her mother
or read the papers from that day
about the man in the shiny black Jag
and his eight-year-old daughter.
He'll be alone, they told me.
One more lie in a hive of lies,
buzzing inside me for years now
like the things I tell myself to
bargain off the ghost that hovers
just a little behind in the mirror.
The face I can’t forget because
she wasn’t meant to be there at all.

Nine years back, that was.
Turned a leaf, walked away, started fresh.
(Cut loose, actually — no longer much good at the thing.)
Then you came along. You.
So good, so wise, so blind.
Even unknowing, you taught me
the proper weight of things:
fate against fat chance,
in-the-palm-of-my-hand against through-my-fingers,
the smallest life against my own.
Worse, yours.

There’s the machinery, I think too much —
can hear the blood hissing through
my brain as I reframe every angle —
sucker’s pride, schemer’s luck,
the rancid taint in a loving wish,
the entomology of ghosts and
the constant scuttering nearness of:
She has not come home.
She might never.

Copyright (c) 2011 David Corbett

For Appearances' Sake

2011-04-09T18:56:00.001-04:00

I know, I know, it's been deadly quiet around here. This is no way to run a blog. All I say can is, I've been writing my ass off, and I'll try harder to post more.

(Ironically, I have a ton of blog post ideas... but whenever I'm tempted to sit down and crank one of them out, a deadline nags at me. You know, one of those deadlines that will eventually result in a paycheck. So they're tough to ignore.)

Anyway, if you've missed me, and happen to give in the greater Philadelphia area, you have two chances to see me IN PERSON! (oh yes, the thrills never stop) over the next two weeks.

First up: a Philadelphia Noir panel smack dab in the middle of the Free Library of Philadelphia's Philadelphia Book Festival. (In case you were wondering, yes, the event takes place in Philadelphia.) We'll be getting part of the old band back together: yours truly, Carlin Romano, Asali Solomon and Jim Zervanos. April 13, 6 p.m. in the Skyline Room. If you stop by, please do say hello.

Second up: a joint Tales From the Cobra Wars signing on April 23rd at the Doylestown Bookshop in (wait for it) Doylestown, PA. I'll be joined by Jon McGoran (who some of you may know as "D.H. Dublin"), Jonathan Maberry and Dennis Tafoya, talking about our stories in IDW's big bad and brand new G.I. Joe antho edited by Max Brooks. (My own contribution, "Speed Trap," is actually a 15,000 word novella, and received some very kind reviews when it published in the back of G.I. Joe Cobra Special #2 last September.) Here's your chance to have this sucker signed by nearly half of its contributors!

Secret Dead Guest Post! Russel D McLean's "McGenre"

2011-03-20T03:00:00.001-04:00

Welcome to the Secret Dead Blog, Tartan Edition.

You will notice I am not Duane Swierczynski. Why? Because a) I have an accent you’re probably straining to understand even on the screen and b) my name is much easier to spell. Although people do insist on adding an extra L.

My name is Russel D McLean. I am a Scotsman. A crime writer. A general miscreant. And I am here today as part of a two week blog tour to promote my latest novel to hit the US, The Lost Sister; a dark, violent PI novel in the vein of Ross McDonald and Lawrence Block but set in modern-day Scotland.

Of course, tours like this get dull if I spend every shilling myself, so what I’m doing is talking every day about different topics to do with the writing of the books or crime fiction in general. I figured given the fact that Duane straddles so many genres at once, I’d talk a little about genre today.

There are two questions I get asked most often at events.

The first is, “Why do your characters swear?”

The second is, “Why do you write crime fiction?”

People seem surprised, you know, that I do this. My primary school teacher showed up at a recent event with her eyebrows raised that I was writing such mean novels. After all, I was the quiet kid. But then if you know your clichés, it’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for.

But it is, in its way, a good question. Especially given that I wanted to be the next Philip K Dick, except without going through the drug problems and that eventual breakdown/revelation/enlightenment thing .

Usually at this point I get interrupted: “So why don’t you write SF?”

My glib response is simple (and maybe true): I was shite. Truly, utterly completely. I loved the genre with a passion, but my voice was utterly unsuited to writing SF. I couldn’t balance the fantastic and the mundane. My tone was all over the place.

But, of course, I was in my teens at this point. Of course I was appalling. With very few exceptions, most people can’t write truthfully in their teens. There’s too much conflict in you. If you’re still figuring out who you are, how can you figure out who your characters are?

In my early twenties, I guess I got better at it. The last SF novel I wrote – with the appalling title of The Many Faces of Alexander Harvey – started to get some traction. But not enough to land a deal. So I figured I needed a new approach.

I still wrote some pulpy shorts but on the whole I was beginning to realise that I was less interested in the SF side of the stories than I was in the distinctly human aspect.

Dark motivations were beginning to appeal. Much of this had to do with my reblooming affair with crime fiction. Thanks to my dad’s influence, I was turning more and to crime novels. The darker they were, the better, of course. I was eating up Ellroy, Block, Leonard, McDonald…

And then I decided to try my hand at a couple of crime fiction stories. My first attempt – later published online under a pseudonym (I have three at the last count, all since retired) – was pretty derivative, as many of these things are, but I could sense something in it. I mean, I was passionate about the characters and what happened to them. I was getting a true kick out of it, not worrying about the plausibility of the more fantastical elements, just letting the story tell itself.

It would take me a few years, of course, to actually get a handle on how to write crime stories that were my own. My style would change, naturally, but the thrill of the crime story would remain. And I’ve spent a long time trying to work out why.

In the last few years that I’ve realised what it is about crime that works for me as a reader and as a writer. The genre is huge; a church that encompasses all kinds of faiths. From the simple puzzle mystery to the most tragic of dramas and everything in between. And while popular opinion may occasionally limit the genre (and claim anything outside of expectations to be “literary”) I think that the basic remit of crime fiction as a genre is so encompassing as to be near enough limitless.

All we need, after all, at the heart of the story is an act that transgresses societal norms. After that, any approach is fair game. We can find out whodunit or whydunit. We can recoil in horror. We can restore order or we can chart chaos. We can do almost anything.

But what I love, what pulls me back again and again, is the emotional and psychological impact of crime and transgressive acts upon people. The victims, the perpetrators, the appointed (self and societal) investigators, almost everyone in the cast is affected by this one act and then you have a dramatic domino effect that you can explore throughout your story. Of course, it all sounds incredibly worthy and “literary” doesn’t it?

But that’s the joy of crime fiction. It can, if you let it, do all that stuff literary fiction claims hold to… and still grip with a story that really moves, and characters who are undergoing real and fascinating changes.

At the same time, it can, if you want it to, be pure escapism. You can read it purely on a surface level and, to quote crime genre expert Ali Karim, watch the baddies get biffed (and, if you’re reading noir, often the good guys too).

It’s the ultimate genre. The least constrained. The one that – as writers such as my most gracious host prove time and again – can be moulded so that it looks like something else entirely. Is, to use an example, Expiration Date a crime novel or an SF novel? You ask me, it’s both and there’s no reason it shouldn’t be. Because, bloody hell, it’s a good story.

So I guess that’s the long answer to the question I get asked second most often (behind the swearing one). But in the end, it’s not about genre for me, but about whether the story is any good. And I hope, in the case of The Lost Sister, readers agree with me on the fact that no matter the genre, it’s still a damn fine story.

Charles Willeford's Turnaround

2011-03-19T14:10:00.004-04:00

I love the story of how Charles Willeford wrote his first novel, High Priest of California, recounted by Lou Stathis in his introduction to the 1987 Re/Search edition. Seems that a roommate was tired of hearing Willeford always talk about writing a novel rather than actually writing the novel. "Aw, you ain't never gonna do it," said the friend, "so just shut up." Willeford realized: "I had no choice after that. I had to start writing."

At the time, Willeford was stationed at the Hamilton Air Force Base about 30 miles north of San Francisco. So on weekends, Willeford would travel down to the city in his power blue Buick convertible and take a room at the Powell Hotel, right at the base of the famous cable car turnaround on Powell Street. He'd divide his time between writing and fun. "Being thirty years old, "Willeford said, "with a blue convertible, a blue uniform, and blue eyes, I was just having the time of my life." More important, Willeford finished the novel. It was only 35,000, but that's exactly the right length for a book like High Priest. (Incidentally, James M. Cain's immortal The Postman Always Rings Twice was also 35,000 words.)

I visited San Francisco last summer, and spent a bit of time down at the cable car turnaround, having no idea that Willeford had written his first novel just a few steps away. For some reason I'm fascinated by the places writers write, as well as where they hung out and where specific novels were created. I know logically that it's the person and not the place... but I can't shake the feeling that some of that writerly vibe tends to linger there.

(Hey, I could have worse hobbies.)

Anyway, I've been keeping this quiet little Tumblr thing called (appropriately enough) Secret Dead Tumblr, where I simply post photos along these lines. I've focused on my favorites: David Goodis, Charles Bukowski, Raymond Chandler, Fredric Brown, Cain, Willeford, etc. Need to add a Hammett post, come to think of it.

But if you have any tips on where a notable writer worked/lived/played, I'm all ears.

Remembering Holly (1995-2011)

2011-03-10T19:40:00.008-05:00

Secret Dead Blog lost a treasured member of its team today: Holly, our 16-year-old black domestic shorthaired cat.

Holly (named for Buddy Holly) has been around since the beginning. I brought her home on Sunday, March 19, 1995, the same week I was promoted to the position of staff writer at Philadelphia Magazine. So for as long as I've been earning a living as a writer, Holly's been by my side. She used to curl up around my neck as I'd write short stories and magazine pieces, sometimes wrapping herself around my computer monitor, just to make sure I stayed focused and on task. She'd knock over the wastebasket in the bathroom whenever my attention would drift. She'd steal my ties from the rack (as if to say, Someday, kid, you're going to have a job where you won't need to wear a tie). She'd growl and hiss at any human females who happened to visit my home. (You ain't got time for the dames. Write, damn it!) She even tried to dismember the human female who would eventually become my wife; this initial skirmish turned into a years-long battle of the wills that settled into an uneasy truce... then, finally, grudging mutual respect. Eventually, Holly accepted the Human Female Who Became My Wife as part of the Secret Dead Blog team, and even tolerated it when I and the human female produced two children. But inside, Holly knew her true place; her claws were sunk deep into the operation.

Holly would curl up into a little furry, purring black ball as I wrote Secret Dead Men in Brooklyn back in the late 90s. (She never said as much, but I think she appreciated her cameo appearance in that novel). She was there when I worked on The Wheelman in Philadelphia, as well as every other novel since. I used to joke with the Human Female Who Became My Wife that Holly was my "office manager." But now I realize that it's true. Holly was a constant in my creative landscape. No matter what other cool things she could have been doing, like hunting or killing or destroying... she chose to spend most of her time with my dumb ass, keeping me company as I hit my daily word count. And now that she's gone, the office doesn't feel the same without her.

She was a great cat. The perfect writer's cat, in fact. A born killer down to the marrow of her bones, but patient and sweet, too. You would have loved her. Unless you were a Human Female, in which case she would have probably tried to kill you.

In Case You're Wondering... No, the Thrill Never Does Get Old

2011-03-07T19:50:00.002-05:00

Just a short while ago the UPS man dropped off a box containing ARCs of my next novel, Fun & Games, out this June from Mulholland Books. I cut open the box with a knife (the kitchen scissors were in the dishwasher). Carefully, I opened the flaps and just stared at them, nestled around plastic air bubble pouches, like 10 babies in synthetic afterbirth. I couldn't even bring myself to touch them, at first. The Bride was the first to reach in and pick one up. After I knew it was safe, I did, too. I checked the front, and the spine, and then the back. (Yeah, this sounds paranoid, but this happened to me once, and the I've never quite gotten over it...) Everything seemed to be in order. It was a real book, with all of its fingers and toes.

Or at least, it's just about ready to become a real book. ARC readers will find typos and such that we've caught, and I've fine-tuned a little bit here and there. But it's really amazing to hold the damned thing in my hands in bound form.

Like I said, this never, ever gets old.

The Battle of Hollywood

2011-02-27T08:54:00.005-05:00

Want a glimpse of the sordid underbelly of Tinseltown, as seen through the eyes of Philly scribes? Boy, have I got an event for you. This Wednesday I'll be taking part in a panel discussion at the Free Library of Philadelphia titled, "Can Writers Survive Hollywood?"

(Spoiler alert: Everyone on the panel did, in fact, survive.)

The panel is part of the One Book, One Philadelphia festivities, and will focus on Sherman Alexie's short story, "Fearful Symmetry," which belongs to one my favorite sub-subgenres. Namely, the "innocent writer goes to Hollywood and loses his/her innocence and/or mind" sub-subgenre (see also Nathaneal West's Day of the Locust, Fitzgerald's Pat Hobby stories, Barton Fink, etc.)

Joining me will be novelist and screenwriter Joe Gangemi, novelist Ken Kalfus and screenwriter Mark Rosenthal, and the event will be moderated by Ursinus professor Erec Smith. We took part in a conference call last week to get to know each other, and if the conversation was any indication of how the panel will turn out... well, you guys are in for a wild ride.

The fun starts at 7 p.m., at the Central Branch (1901 Vine Street). Hope to see some of you there.

(Illustration: Charles Binger's awesomely pulpy Day of the Locust paperback art. Which springs to mind whenever I think about Hollywood.)

The Hit Parade

2011-02-16T08:12:00.002-05:00

"Don't forget to floss."

Yesterday Publishers Weekly Daily ran a special on Mulholland Books with a crapload of original content from its authors, including Michael Robotham on the top robberies of all time, Lawrence Block on Matthew Scudder, Mark Billingham on the perils of writing a series, Marcia Clark and Sebastian Rotella on how their previous day jobs influenced their writing, and then finally me with a quick rundown of "Great (Hit) Men I Have Known." I know I forgot a bunch of favorites (Thomas Perry's own "Butcher's Boy," comes to mind, as well as Block's Keller and Allan Guthrie's Park, the hitman who is afraid of blood). But that's the problem with these kinds of lists. You remember half a dozen more the moment you hit "send."

So help me out here, before some creators send their creations after me. Who are your favorite fictional hit men?

(Photo from the wonderful Mr. Peel's Sardine Liqueur.)

The Wheelman Rides in Paris

2011-02-14T21:47:00.001-05:00

The French edition of my crime novel The Wheelman is out this month from Rivages/Noir, and once again, I'm loving the cover. Yes, I'm sure a lot of that has to do with the classic Rivages look, and the fact that so many of my crime writing heroes (David Goodis, James Ellroy, Donald Westlake/Richard Stark) have been published by the same line. But the cover image is also spot-on. You've got a guy running down a road, scrambling for his life, much like Lennon in the novel. And I'll be damned if this doesn't remind me (kinda sorta) of the narrow tunnel that shoots under the Philadelphia Museum of Art, if you're cutting from Fairmount Avenue to I-76. (Philadelphians will know what I'm talking about here.) Anyway, what do you guys think?

Also: If any of you read French, I'd love to know what the translated title means. Best Babelfish can tell me is "any pace." And that just sounds... weird.

(Once again, huge thanks to Frédéric Fontès for the tip.)

Set the Time Machine to "Future Awesome"

2011-02-09T21:45:00.003-05:00

One of the most valuable things about social media blogs, Twitter, Facebook, etc? Yeah, sure, the camaraderie, the photos, the links, catching up with that dude you spoke to exactly once in 10th grade, blah blah blah.

But what I really love are the tips on forthcoming books. Stuff that is weeks, months, maybe even years away... but makes me all twitchy, wanting to get my paws on them immediately. There is no book more tantalizing than the one you can't read right thisverysecond.

So, in no particular order -- and with no attempt whatsoever to be "complete" -- here are a few books I've heard about that have me drooling:

The Damned Highway, by Brian Keene and Nick Mamatas (Dark Horse). I'm a Hunter S. Thompson fan. I'm a Brian Keene fan. And I'm sure after this novel, I'm going to be a newly-minted Nick Mamatas fan. Look at that Ralph Steadman-inspired art above. I mean... seriously. They had me at "gonzo horror."

Fatale, by Jean-Patrick Manchette (New York Review Books Classics). Manchette wrote a dozen acclaimed crime novels in French. Only two translated into English, and I adore both of them. This will be the third, and I would probably surrender a finger or kidney to be able to read it right now.

(Oh, and while I'm at it: Fantagraphics will be publishing a graphic novel adaptation of Manchette's The Prone Gunman called Like a Sniper Lining Up His Shot. This is a good year to be a Manchette fanboy.)

Reggie Jackson Wanted to Kill Me, by Robert Ward (Tyrus Books). The subtitle is "Collected Essays of American Tough Guys," but I'd argue that Ward is one of the toughest of all. Ward gave a little taste of this collection at a Bouchercon panel last year, and he absolutely killed the audience. Literally. Bludgeoned every single person to death with his brain.

Claire DeWitt and the City of the Dead, by Sara Gran (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt). Every so often, Gran turns her hand to a new subgenre... then totally owns it. With Come Closer, it was modern-day demonic horror. With Dope, it was 1950s junkie PI noir. Now she's sending a 1980s girl detective into post-Katrina New Orleans, and even better, this appears to be the start of a new series. There's never enough Gran on the shelves.

The Pack, by Jason Starr (Ace). Following his crime/horror graphic novel hybrid The Chill, the Dark Prince of Noir is now apparently ready to really bare his fangs. Ten bucks Starr's werewolves ain't going to be moping around, bummed that some sparkly vampire stole their dame.

The Informant, by Thomas Perry (Otto Penzler). One of the best hit man novels ever is Perry's The Butcher's Boy, which was first published in 1982. The Informant will be the second sequel, following 1992's Sleeping Dogs. Not only is Perry one of our finest thriller writers, he is also a cruel, cruel tease.

Robopocalypse, by Daniel H. Wilson (Doubleday). Just because it sounds absolutely mental.

Flashback, by Dan Simmons (Reagan Arthur Books). Much of a very fucked-up near-future USA is in the grip of a drug that has its users literally living in the past. As a man slightly obsessed with nostalgia, I can see the appeal.

Tabloid City, by Pete Hamill (Little, Brown). Newspapers/New York/Cops/Murder/Hamill... really not needing much more convincing this pick this one up.

Also: Little, Brown will be bring out George Pelecanos's back catalog in handsome new trade paperback editions. That means I'll have a chance to re-read the Nick Stefanos trilogy, the D.C. Quartet... all of the brilliant stuff that got me hooked on Pelecanos a decade ago. Can't wait.

Again, this is not complete -- just what I've added to my shortlist recently. What are you guys looking forward to?

(To put it bluntly: I NEED MORE TIPS.)

Fun & Games in the UK

2011-02-02T16:57:00.004-05:00

Very proud to share with you guys the official UK cover for my next novel, Fun & Games. I'm pretty much in love with it. The image is subtle, but darkly funny. And it pairs nicely with the blood-so-red-it's-almost-turning-black title treatment. My name doesn't look too ridiculous, nor is it hidden. The tagline is funny. (Similar to one I submitted along with the novel, but it's been sharpened up along the way.) And as the subtitle indicated, this is the first of a series. A trilogy, to be exact, with the second and third volumes following closely behind the first.

The UK version will be published this June by Mulholland Books UK, the sister of imprint of our own beloved Mulholland Books. I've seen a rough version of the American cover, and I can't wait to share it with you, because it kicks ass in an entirely different way.

What do you guys think? If you were in a Waterstone's or something over in the UK, and you saw this on the shelves, would you give this novel a go?

Update: The US cover is online! Check it out after the jump...

Not long after I posted the above image, my Twitter/Facebook pal Elizabeth A. White (who runs a must-read book review website, by the way) mentioned that she liked the UK cover better than the US. I wondered if she was mistaken; I thought Mulholland was still playing around with the US cover. But lo and behold, it was already on the official Mulholland Fun & Games page! Color me inattentive.

Anyway, you can see that the US version takes a more pulp-art approach, and I love this one just as much. The blood on the arm, the totaled vehicle, the the palm trees... it's all pretty damned appealing. My name even manages to pop a little, which is no mean feat with a handle like mine.

And it's a little hard to make out, but tagline is the one I used while pitching this novel: "Accidents will happen. They'll make sure of it."

What do you guys think of this one?

Tears of a Mercenary

2011-02-01T09:10:00.001-05:00

Out tomorrow in comic shops everywhere, unless the ice storm washes away every single copy: the long-awaited Deadpool and Cable #26. Yes, it's been almost a year since Deadpool and Cable #25. And in the meantime, Cable... uh, died. But why let a little thing like that get in the way? I love the coverlines the Marvel folks slapped on this baby. (Whoever came up with "How Mourns a Mercenary?" deserves a beer.) Hope you'll check it out. It would be fun to write Deadpool and Cable #27 sometime in the next two or three years.

You Gotta Get Up If You Want to Get Off

2011-01-26T22:18:00.000-05:00

If you're a fellow Lawrence Block fan (and if not, what the hell's the matter with you?) you have to admit: we are living in golden times. There's a brand new Matt Scudder novel, A Drop of the Hard Stuff, out this spring from Mulholland Books. There's a virtual treasure trove of ebook editions of many hard-to-find Block novels available on your Kindles and your Nooks and iPads. (If you haven't already ready, drop a ten spot on Such Men Are Dangerous, a short-but-blistering action thriller unlike anything else you've ever read. Trust me; you'll thank me in the morning.)

And now comes word that a brand-new Block novel is leading the relaunch of Hard Case Crime from a.) a new publisher, and b.) in hardcover.

Strangely it's Block writing as one of his former pseudonyms, a la Stephen King/Richard Bachman. Confused? Let Charles Ardai explain:

GETTING OFF: A Novel of Sex and Violence by Lawrence Block (writing as Jill Emerson) -- The story of a beautiful young woman who sets off on a mission to kill every man she's ever slept with (and she's slept with quite a few). For this book, Lawrence Block is reviving a pseudonym he hasn't used in almost 40 years, under which he wrote seven particularly sexy books back in the day. When he saw how sexy this new one was coming out, he thought...that's the Jill Emerson in me coming out again...

Me? I'm already sold. By the premise, as well as that 1970s-style chunkalicious font and the rather, uh, cheeky Gregory Manchess cover art.

(And that's just the beginning for the new Hard Case. Getting Off will be followed by a new Mickey Spillane/Max Allan Collins, a new Max Allan Collins, and a new Christa Faust.)

So yeah. These are golden times.

Down These Mean, Sunbaked Streets

2011-01-26T20:20:00.004-05:00

This past Saturday's screening of Hickey & Boggs was a real treat. I'm very thankful to Cullen Gallagher and the rest of his Not Coming to A Theater Near You crew for inviting me up, as well as the 92Y Tribeca for hosting. The screening room was packed, and I think it's safe to say everybody had a good time with this downbeat slice of neo noir.

And yes, they showed an actual print, not a digital copy. And while the colors were slightly sunbaked and orange to my untrained eye, it was still a beautiful thing to behold, complete with crisp audio. Besides, all of my memories of the early 1970s are slightly sunbaked and orange anyway.

Someone asked if I'd be running my introduction on my blog. I honestly hadn't thought about it until then. I prepared about 700 words of loose notes, meant as a guide for my three or four minute talk. I definitely went off script, because I wanted to be informal. Friendly. Easygoing. You know, like the 1970s. I also added quite a bit of impromptu profanity, which is what I do when I'm nervous and speaking in front of a large crowd.

Anyway, here's what I prepared, in case you want a little intro before you stream Hickey & Boggs on Netflix or download it from iTunes...

Hickey & Boggs intro/Swierczynski

Raymond Chandler one described the classic private eye in this now-classic quote:

“Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He is the hero, he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor, by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world.”

In the early 1970s, the classic romantic, private eye—the kind Chandler was describing—well… he took kind of an ass-beating.

By who? I think you can point at finger at three movies:

Robert Altman’s 1973 film adaptation of The Long Goodbye, where Chandler's own Philip Marlowe is played by Elliott Gould as if he’d fallen asleep in the 1940s and woke in the early 1970s... and he doesn’t quite adjust until the last, bloody (and controversial) scene.

Night Moves, the 1975 Arthur Penn movie in which Gene Hackman plays an old school private eye who can’t figure out the mysteries of his marriage, let alone the case at hand… and ends up, quite literally, circling the drain.

And then there’s tonight’s feature, Hickey and Boggs, which to me is the high point – or low point, as it were – of the 1970s private eye ass-beating trend.

Hickey and Boggs was the first produced screenplay of legendary Walter Hill, of Alien, The Warriors, 48 HRS. and Streets of Fire fame, among many others. The film was directed by Robert Culp -- the only film he ever directed. Culp shot on location, all over L.A. He shot cheap, on a short schedule, with a very low budget.

The stars? Culp himself and Bill Cosby. One generation might remember Culp and Cosby from I Spy. Another might remember Culp as Agent Bill Maxwell from The Greatest American Hero, and Cosby as Cliff Huxtable.

Well, you ain’t going to see that Culp and Cosby.

And if you’re expecting a prototype Lethal Weapon, let me set you straight: there are no crazy Martin Riggs antics; Culp doesn’t once say, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Bill Cosby cracks a smile exactly once, if I recall correctly.*

(*Note: I made this claim, but the film proved me wrong. Cosby smiles about four or five times.)

Hickey & Boggs opened October 4, 1972… and didn’t exactly set the world on fire. It’s safe to say Hickey & Boggs was kind of forgotten, except by diehard noir fans.

You can't blame me. I was about eight months old, and missed my chance to see it in the theater.

I first saw it thanks to a reference in a book by Alain Silver and James Ursini called L.A. Noir: The City as Character.

And I’ll admit it: it was the image of Robert Culp and Bill Cosby, guns blazing behind a shot-up car on a beach—yeah, that hooked me.

After a trip to L.A., and wishing I were still there, I saw H&B on iTunes and gave it try. It blew me away.

The film is as complex as any good crime novel. Maybe even a little too complex, but so what. Full of great sunbaked LA scenes—the ultimate daytime noir. My friend, novelist and screenwriter Terrill Lankford, says he shows H&B to actors to show them how to underplay a role.

It is downbeat; it is grim. And I haven’t been able to stop watching it. I see something new every time.

And since that first viewing almost two years ago, I’ve discovered a whole new legion of fans who now consider H&B a cult classic. The good stuff does have a way of sticking around.

Why the appeal?

Hickey & Boggs is somehow everything I love about the private eye genre—even as it turns Chandler’s idea completely on its head.

Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.

Well, Frank Boggs and Al Hickey are good men… but they are badly tarnished. As the film progresses, you will see them become afraid. And finally, they themselves become mean.

Real fuckin’ mean.

If Raymond Chandler watched this movie, he’d have kittens.

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to present Hickey and Boggs. Sit back and watch the classic private eye get his ass kicked hard.

Can't Hit Nothing

2011-01-21T12:00:00.001-05:00

You've got to love this Hickey & Boggs poster (one of two) created up by the folks at Not Coming to a Theater Near You in anticipation of tomorrow's screening at the 92YTribeca. (Click on it for a larger view; you can find the other poster, featuring Bill Cosby, right here.) Culp's never looked so positively bad-ass. I want both for my office wall. As I mentioned earlier, I've been asked to introduce the film, which is a real honor. If you're anywhere near NYC tomorrow and want to stop by, you'll find complete details right here.

Expiration at the 2011 Edgars

2011-01-20T08:41:00.004-05:00

I'm extremely happy (and pleasantly stunned, to tell the truth) to report that my fifth novel, Expiration Date, was nominated for a 2011 Edgar Allan Poe Award in the category of Best Paperback Original.

You can check out all of the nominees at the Mystery Writers of America's official Edgars website (theEdgars.com).

I was checking my Twitter feed when I saw that MWA's Margery Flax had posted a pdf of this year's nominees. I clicked on it, wondering if I knew anybody who'd made the shortlist. And then I literally did one of those goofy Hollywood spit-takes (with Diet Coke) when I saw Expiration listed there.

The winner will be announced at the 65th annual Edgars banquet on April 28th. It's a cliche to say that it's an honor just to be nominated, but in this case it's absolutely true.

I'm also proud that Thrillers: 100 Must Reads, edited by David Morrell and Hank Wagner, has been nominated for a Best Critical/Biographical Edgar. My contribution, an essay on Donald Westlake/Richard Stark's The Hunter, was reprinted at the Mulholland Books site just the other day. (Interestingly, the essay details the one time I met Donald Westlake, at ... wait for it ... at an Edgars banquet.)

Congrats to all of the nominees, big thanks to the judges and the MWA. And if by some miracle Expiration pulls off a win, I'm hosting a kegger at my house. All of you are invited.

(Ulra cool Poe and Raven photo by Kevin Dooley, from his Flickr set.)

My Love Affair with Mildred

2011-01-10T21:44:00.002-05:00

You never forget your first.

First James M. Cain novel, that is. For me it was Mildred Pierce, which I first read back in February 1995 and promptly sent me off on a sloppy Cain binge (Postman, Indemnity, Serenade, The Butterfly). This was the time in my life when I was young and broke and trying to read every great hardboiled and noir novel I could afford. My supplier was Art Bourgeau, author and co-owner of Philly's legendary Whodunit bookstore. It must have been Art who turned me on to Mildred; I really can't imagine myself being lured in by that kinda dowdy-sounding title alone.

But that's the twisted beauty of a noir like Mildred Pierce. There are no crime lords, no fedoras, no snappy banter, no unsolved murders or any of the other things that readers associate with the genre. Instead Cain gives us a suburban California housewife hell-bent on providing a better life for her daughters, Veda and Ray. And like in every great noir, no good deed goes unpunished. The very sacrifices that give Veda a better life also mortify her; mother and daughter are locked in a classic inescapable Cain "love rack," and it's absolutely devastating.

Again: not the kind of thing you usually associate with noir.

This March HBO will be debuting its five-part mini-series adaptation of Mildred Pierce, directed by Todd Haynes. I can't wait. For some reason, I've never watched the 1946 Joan Crawford version; I think I've always worried that it would pale in comparison to the memory of the novel. (That, and I believe they threw in a murder, just to make it a more of a crime flick.) But enough time has passed, and I have a ton of admiration for the creators and actors involved -- including Kate Winslet, Guy Pearce and Hope Davis. Plus, HBO has proven it can do period pieces (Boardwalk Empire) like nobody's business. The trailer is so lush, I want to nuzzle the damned thing.

But you? You have a little more than two months. Pick up Mildred between now and then and give it a whirl. You might just fall in love, too.

The January Blanket

2011-01-08T11:24:00.001-05:00

Sat up last night re-reading Of Tender Sin by David Goodis. He died exactly 44 years ago last night, not long after a snowstorm. (One rumor had it Goodis died while shoveling snow.) Last night in Philly there was more snow on the ground, and there's even more snow falling as I type this. In other words, the weather is pure David Goodis: cold and bitter and snowy. He seemed obsessed with Philadelphia in winter. Here's a passage I ran across last night:

[Somehow Darby] could see all the sleepers underneath the snow-weighted roofs, as though the snow were a blanket for each and every one of them. The January Blanket that kept them protected, even while it chilled them. For winter was the best time of the year, the time of chill and freezing. Winter was the big icebox that kept them from decay and made everything fresh and keen and clear. Like the cold, clear thoughts that were coming now. Because after all, he'd be paying for it, and he had a right to get what he paid for.

I think it's safe to say Goodis would have enjoyed the weather this weekend. Looking forward to seeing some of you at the tribute tomorrow.

(Photo courtesy PhillyHistory.org.)

Made in the 1970s

2011-01-07T17:43:00.002-05:00

I'm sorry, argue all you want, but there are no better movie posters than the posters they made for crime films during the 1970s. (Dig the pulp paperback-style art! The creative use of white space!) Here are two of my favorites. Share yours in the comments selection.

It's All Goodis

2011-01-06T07:55:00.003-05:00

Yesterday the Philadelphia Weekly ran Brian McManus's very fine cover story about none other David Goodis, Philly's dark prince of noir, and the small group of "Goodis Guys" (yours truly included) who try to keep the man's work and memory alive.

Three years after hanging up my journalism hat (you know, the fedora with the little cardboard PRESS card sticking out of it), I still feel weird being on the receiving end of the questions. Sometimes it's difficult to articulate why you're drawn to something, be it a writer's work or a film or a piece of art. But the more I read about Goodis, and the more I devour books about Philadelphia history, the more connections I see between the man and his city. I'm happy to see him receive the attention he didn't quite receive during his relatively short life.

With that said... it's not too late to join us crazy-ass Goodis Guys this Sunday as we gather at his grave site to pay him tribute.

Organized by King Goodishead Lou Boxer, the memorial begins at 11 a.m. at Roosevelt Memorial Park (2701 Old Lincoln Highway, Trevose PA, literally down the road from the PA Turnpike and just beyond the border of Northeast Philadelphia).

After a brief service we'll jump into a bunch of cars (I have two or three seats open in my ultra-noir family minivan) to tour some Goodis sites in Philly, including the house where he wrote most of his novels, the hospital where he died, and the joint where he shot pool.

Then we'll gather at the amazing Port Richmond Bookstore (3037 Richmond Street) for drinks and snacks (I'll be bring a bunch of Yuengling Lager), noir talk, and book shopping. The place is a former movie theater and it is literally stuffed to the rafters with books. And appropriately enough, Port Richmond is the setting for Goodis's most famous novel, Shoot the Piano Player, a.k.a. Down There.

And while Harriet's Hut, the dive bar featured in that novel, doesn't exist, we do have Atlantis, the Lost Bar (2442 Frankford Avenue), which features Philly's own Yards on tap and cheap eats. We'll wrap things up there with lunch.

Hope you can join us. If you have any questions about the event, feel free to drop me a line. If you live nowhere near Philadelphia, pull a Goodis novel off the shelf and join us in spirit.

The Return of Hickey & Boggs

2011-01-04T17:17:00.003-05:00

Pulp Serenade's Cullen Gallagher tipped me off to a cool event: a screening of Hickey & Boggs at 92YTribeca in New York City later this month.

I've previously blogged about my obsessive love for this downbeat, sun-baked PI movie; I even hosted my own screening (along with Ed "Philly Poe Guy" Pettit) in Jenkintown, PA last year.

But Cullen says he and his cohorts at Not Coming to a Theater Near You have dug up a 35 mm print of the film. We were unable to do so for the Jenkintown screening, and had to make do with a projection from a digital file. Seeing it in 35 mm is a temptation too great to resist. So if all goes well with the work-in-progress, I'll be up in NYC catching Hickey & Boggs with Cullen and the gang, and maybe even saying a few words beforehand. Hope you can join us.

2011: The Year Pulp Broke

2011-01-03T17:48:00.005-05:00

Can't believe I've been keeping this blog for over six years now. Started out as a lark, when I received my first fiction book deal, and figured I had to be like all of the other cool kids and creat a blog to promote it. I named this blog after my first novel, the now out-of-print Secret Dead Men, and the name kind of stuck. At times, the name is pretty damn on point: weeks will go by without a post. There's really no mission here, other than me writing about my own crap or books I like or movies I've seen or events I think you might like. With the advent of Twitter, my blogging has really taken a blow. Links to news stories or bits of random brain matter that would have ended up here now end up on my Twitter feed in 140 character bursts. (And please do follow me there! I'm pretty active on Twitter. Maybe more than I should be...)

So does that mean Secret Dead Blog is... left for dead?

Hell no. I still like my blog. I want to use it more often, for things that don't fit into 140 character bursts. And to goad myself into blogging a bit more, I asked the mad genius behind Proletkult Graphik to create this blog's first professionally-designed banner. See above; isn't it a scuzzy thing of beauty? (Check out Proletkult's sample section; if you dig retro pulp stuff, I highly recommend these guys. Or, this guy, as it were.)

And 2011 will be a busy year for me. Quite possibly my busiest ever. I have no fewer than four books scheduled for release (my own trilogy for Mulholland Books, as well as Dark Revelations, my third collaboration with Anthony E. Zuiker), as well as an assortment of weird comic book projects and reprints and other things that defy categorization. But like always, I don't want Secret Dead Blog to be all about the shameless self-promotion. I want to talk more about other people's books. Books I dig. Books I want. Books I wish I wrote. Obscure writers. Crazy pieces of Philadelphia history. And whatever else strikes my fancy.

Hope you'll stick with me. And if you've been reading and enjoying Secret Dead Blog over the years, thank you. I'll try to keep up... well, whatever the hell it is I've been doing.

Happy Holidays from Secret Dead Blog

2010-12-24T08:39:00.003-05:00

And remember: if you hear someone sneaking down your chimney, and he's not wearing red, shoot to kill.

This Week's Reading

2010-12-15T22:17:00.001-05:00

Maybe it's me, but this week seems unusually rich in good, free reads. Case in point:

1. Maxim Jakubowski's short essay on his friend (and noir legend) Derek Raymond/Robin Cook. No, not the medical thriller writer... ah, just read the essay at the Mulholland Books site and you'll see.

2. A free short story (also at the Mulholland Books site, but brought to you by Popcorn Fiction) by Secret Dead Blog favorite Charlie Huston. This doesn't make up for the fact that there will be no new Charlie Huston novel in 2011, but it does salve the wound a little. And Warren Ellis even squeezed a guest blog post out of Mr. Huston, which of course, was a must-read.

3. Ethan Iverson of The Bad Plus put together this annotated Donald Westlake bibiography that just blew me away. He's packed it with little nuggets of review, analysis, and correspondence with Westlake himself. I want Iverson to keep going until this baby is a short book. But until then, enjoy the current version.

Also: In the spirit of both free reads and Donald Westlake, the good folks at Oceanview Publishing, who recently produced Thrillers: 100 Must-Reads (edited by David Morrell and Hank Wagner), sent me a PDF of my short essay on Westlake/Richard Stark's first Parker novel, The Hunter. Want a copy? E-mail me at (duane DOT swier AT verizon DOT net) and I'll send it to you.

The Goodis Gathering: 2011

2010-12-12T17:55:00.002-05:00

Save the date: on January 9, 2011, a crew of hardcore David Goodis fans will be gathering for another graveside memorial. Details are forthcoming, but expect new stops, new faces, piles of vintage paperbacks for sale and free beer. (You heard me.) If you're even mildly curious about the life of Philly's finest noir stylist, join us. No registration fee! And did I mention the free beer? Watch this space and NoirCon.info for details.

Goodis is a huge influence on my own work; I wrote "Lonergan's Girl" (included in the recent Philadelphia Noir anthology from Akashic) as a small tribute. He wrote about the streets where I grew up, as well as a Philadelphia that's only half-remembered now. All the more reason to remember the man and his work every year around the time of his death (January 7, 1967).

For past Secret Dead Blog coverage of Goodis, click right here.

(Photo courtesy Lou Boxer.)

The Secret Dead Blog Christmas Film Festival

2010-12-11T10:38:00.020-05:00

If I were in charge of programming, say, a 10-movie Christmas movie marathon*, I'd fill it with lots of action, crime, noir, black comedy... and of course, some heart-warming classics. If I could program such a thing, here's what you'd be watching.

Opening Short: A Junky's Christmas (1993, directed by Nick Donkin and Melody McDaniel, produced by Francis Ford Coppola). William S. Burroughs and Christmas go together like Trent Reznor and... uh, Bing Crosby. Yes, this short is Claymation, which is pretty much the only traditional thing about this creepy-yet-oddly heartwarming short film. If your jaw hasn't dropped by the time our titular "junky" has opened the stolen suitcase, then you ain't human. (You can watch the whole thing on You Tube: Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.)

After the jump, it's onto the main features, starting with a trip into the raunchy/noir savant mind of Scott Phillips...

The Ice Harvest (2005, Harold Ramis). Of course, the film is not as good as the book (that goes without saying, and if you haven't read the book, stop reading this blog and go buy/download/steal a copy immediately. It's essential.) But I first watched this at the original GoodisCon back in 2007, and every year since it's not Christmas unless I'm hanging out with John Cusack as he orders tropical drinks at a strip club, slips on freezing rain, and places the world's lamest Christmas presents ever under his ex-wife's tree.

Batman Returns (1991, Tim Burton). Yes, it was a big mainstream Hollywood superhero flick. But goddamn, what a weird movie. I mean, seriously. Deformed children sent to live in sewers. Intelligent packs of penguins. Starlets killed by bat swarms. Stuffed animals torn apart by garbage disposals. Toxic waste. Kentucky-Fried Christopher Walken. And Batman is hardly in the thing! I put this movie on a few weeks ago, and it made my seven-year-old daughter cry. Which reminded me how much I loved this flick.

Less Than Zero (1987, Marek Kanievska). Even Bret Easton Ellis has warmed up to this one. The whole "Brat Pack" thing (the early novels of Ellis, Jay McInerney, Tama Janowitz) caught me at an impressionable age: 15, and trying to figure out what college/adult life would be like. So I listened to the Bangles song ("Hazy Shade of Winter," which is still fantastic) and checked the novel out of the library and -- between Zero and The Rules of Attraction -- gave myself quite an education. And the movie, which I saw much later, takes me back to that time.

Which brings us to the centerpiece of the festival, and the most obvious selections: The John McClane Double Feature.

Die Hard (1988, John McTiernan). The Veuve Cliquot of 'splodey action movies: often imitated, never bettered. Every time I watch it, I catch new things to admire. Like the brief exchange between the flight attendant and John McClane as he's pulling a giant teddy bear down from the overhead bin. Not a word is spoken; the woman's eyes, and McClane's stunned reaction, say it all. Suddenly, we're crushing on him, too.

Die Hard 2: Die Harder (1990, Renny Harlin). Even my 17-year-old self rolled his eyes when I saw the preview where John McClane has just ejected himself out of an exploding plane, mugging for the camera the whole time. And of course it doesn't hold a flaming air traffic flare to the first movie. But so what. It's our last chance to spent another Christmas holiday with McClane, since the next two sequels ignore this vital ingredient of the Die Hard formula. (Yeah, yeah, Live Free or Die Hard takes place over the Fourth of July, blah blah blah. It ain't Christmas.)

While your ears are still recovering from the gunfire and explosions, it's time to give you a...

Blast of Silence (1960, Allen Baron). Ed Brubaker turned me on to this movie, one of the last of the original noir cycle, and I'll be forever thankful. If the idea of wandering around 1959 New York City (Rockefeller Center, the Village, Harlem, the Staten Island Ferry) during the holidays inside the mind of a hitman who's slowly losing his shit appeals to you in the slightest... track down a copy right now. The Criterion DVD has great bonus features, including a "then-and-now" style NYC tour from Allen Baron, who wrote, directed and starred.

The Thin Man (1934, W.S. Van Dyke). I try to re-read Hammett's Thin Man during the holidays, because the action takes place during that long, strange week between Christmas and New Year's. This classic adaptation transports you there, no matter the time of the year. Just skip past the opening chapters, because it's painfully slow and sets up a central mystery which nobody gives a crap about. The central activities here are wise-cracking and drinking, as it should be during the holidays. That's not to say that we're dealing with an dysfunctional alcoholic couple in Nick and Nora Charles. You'd marry either of them in a heartbeat, because it seems like so much fun.

And finally, we end with a triple blast of Shane Black Holiday Features. Nobody, and I mean nobody, does a Christmas action flick like Shane Black. As violent as it may be, I want to live in a Shane Black Christmas Village, where the femme fatales wear slinky Santa suits, people are routinely tortured, and shit may blow up at any given moment.

Lethal Weapon (1987, Richard Donner). This would have been the ultimate Christmas action movie if that pesky Die Hard hadn't shown up a year later. I've never spent the holidays in L.A., but thanks to this flick, this is how I'll always imagine it: a barefoot, bare-chested Mel Gibson, running down Hollywood Boulevard, desperate to beat the piss out of Gary Busey on a wet lawn.

The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996, Renny Harlin). Criminally underrated. Funny, mean, frantic and features the best Samuel L. Jackson line ever: "No, no, I sock 'em in the jaw and yell pop goes the weasel." Which is just one of many, many fucked-up and memorable lines. This is probably the funniest Black script, next to...

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2004, Shane Black). Back when KKBB first appeared, everybody in my crime writing circle went apeshit over it, and with good reason: it's a brilliant send-up/celebration of 1950s pulp detective series (most notably, Brett Halliday's Mike Shayne mysteries), buddy action flicks, and of course, Shane Black Christmas movies.

Okay, so that's my list. What would be playing at your film festival?

RELATED: Just noticed that Vince Keenan posted his own favorites yesterday, and there's a lot of nice overlap. Swear to God, I wasn't peeking at his list when I compiled mine.

(*Big thanks to Elizabeth Amber and Anthony Schiavino for inspiring this post on a Twitter exchange.)

A Little "Bloodsucking Hordes" and "Save the Children," Please

2010-12-07T19:04:00.004-05:00

Recently I picked up a bunch of paperbacks from Angry Robot, a new-ish SF-fantasy imprint with attitude to spare. Case in point: instead of giving us a tired old genre label on the spine, each Angry Robot book includes a helpful "File Under" tab, which provides hyper-specific subgenre labels.

For instance, the brand of science fiction in Lauren Beukes' Moxyland includes "digital natives," "corporate wars," "future tech" and "teenage riot."

Which is not quite the same brand of science fiction as Colin Harvey's Damage Time, which includes "a decaying USA," "brain reading," "wrongful arrest," and "murderous secrets."

And that's not to be confused with the science fiction of Thomas Blackthorne, whose Edge concerns itself with "devastated Britain" (why should the USA have all of the fun?), "legalized duelling," "corporate atrocity," and, somewhat strangely, "save the children" (though to be fair, I haven't read the book yet.)

Not only are the labels on Dan Abnett's forthcoming Embedded awesome ("anything for a story" and "stay alive!"), but the book has one of the best high-concept premises I've heard in a long, long time.

And while I'm not the world's biggest fantasy reader, the labels on Andy Remic's Kell's Legend reeled me in. How can you resist "a city besieged," "a dangerous hero," "bloodsucking hordes," and "sweeping battles."

Dude. Bloodsucking hordes. Say no more. Here's my credit card.

Angry Robot also scores major points with me for suggesting other genre novels from other publishers. If you like Blackthorne's Edge, the cover copy suggests you give Koushun Takami's Battle Royale, Michael Marshall Smith's Spares and Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club a whirl. (And, of course, gives you more insight into what to expect with Edge.) It's always cool when publishers promote books across the board, not just titles on their own imprints.

I'm liking the cut of your jib, Mr. Robot. Stay Angry. Stay weird.

Upcoming Philly Noir Events

2010-12-06T10:20:00.002-05:00

The Philadelphia Noir tour continues with three back-to-back events this week! (And one in Brooklyn next year, for good measure.) I'll be at the first event, this Wednesday night.

Wed., Dec. 8, 7:30pm
Ursinus College, Berman Museum of Art
601 East Main Street
COLLEGEVILLE, PA
"What is Noir?" event featuring editor Carlin Romano, with contributors Laura Spagnoli, Duane Swierczynski, Jim Zervanos, and others TBA

Thurs., Dec. 9, 7:00pm
Chester County Book & Music Company
975 Paoli Pike
WEST CHESTER, PA
*Featuring editor Carlin Romano, with contributor Gerald Kolpan, and George Anastasia, author of Philadelphia Real Noir.

Fri., Dec. 10, 6:00pm
The Doylestown Bookshop
16 S. Main St.
DOYLESTOWN, PA
*Featuring editor Carlin Romano, with contributors Diane Ayres and Dennis Tafoya.

Fri., Jan. 21, 7:30pm
Greenlight Bookstore
686 Fulton St.
BROOKLYN, NY
*Featuring editor Carlin Romano, and contributor Halimah Marcus, with Bronx Noir editor/Manhattan Noir contributor S.J. Rozan, and Tim Mcloughlin, editor of Brooklyn Noir 1, 2, and 3

(Image courtesy Temple Urban Archives.)

A Great Experiment, Indeed

2010-12-03T08:48:00.004-05:00

Last night I drove down to the Philadelphia History Museum to attend the pilot screening of Philadelphia: The Great Experiment. Both the museum and documentary are works-in-progress. The former, which used to be known as the Atwater-Kent, is in the middle of massive renovations and preparing for a spring 2011 relaunch. Likewise, the pilot of Great Experiment is a 30-minute glimpse at what will (hopefully) become a seven hour mini-series telling the story of Philadelphia -- America's ultimate "R&D lab," in the words of executive producer Sam Katz.

City Hall Rises: a still from Philadelphia: The Great Experiment.

Katz told the packed house that he was inspired to start the project after looking for a good, multi-part documentary about Philly... and coming up empty. New York had one (thanks to Ric Burns); Chicago had one, as well as Vegas. Why not Philly? (Once again, the best reason for any creative project: when you find yourself reaching for a book or film that doesn't exist yet.)

After watching those 30 tantalizing minutes, I want to see the whole thing. I want to see the whole thing right now.

The pilot covers a lot of ground: eleven years of city history, from Lincoln's funeral procession crawling through the streets of Philadelphia (1865) to the opening of the Centennial Exposition (1876). But it's the characters that bring the period to vivid life, from party bosses to early civil rights pioneers. Most striking: the stories of Octavius V. Catto and Caroline Le Count, two African-American school teachers. Nearly 90 years before Rosa Parks, Le Count boarded a streetcar on Lombard Street and refused to leave. The operator tried to force Le Count off the vehicle; she stayed put. So instead, the operator unhitched the horses and instructed the other passengers to catch another car. Le Count sat alone in the abdandoned car... for the next 24 hours. Le Count and Octavius Catto would go on to fight for the desegregation of streetcars, a fight that is brilliantly detailed in Great Experiment. Unfortunately, Catto would pay the ultimate price. On Election Day 1871, the 31-year-old schoolteacher was shot on the corner of 9th and South by rioters trying to keep African-Americans from the polls.

Stories like these -- forgotten by far too many -- are just one of the reasons we need this mini-series.

Katz's company, History Making Productions, has a two-minute sample of the series on their website, as well as five cool "webisodes" on topics such as baseball, volunteer firefighting and everybody's old favorite: the Sanitary Fair of 1864. (Which is actually pretty damn fascinating.) They're also looking to host other screenings of the pilot, so if you're in a position to do so, drop 'em a line. And of course, they're always looking for donations to complete the project.

So if you happen to have a few spare million, I suggest you write Mr. Katz a check immediately. Because I want to see the whole thing. Right now.

Poe's Dorm Room

2010-12-01T18:37:00.003-05:00

From February to December 1826, 17-year-old Edgar Allan Poe attended the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. This is the interior of his room, #13 (naturally) on the West Range, which has been maintained by UVA's Raven Society for over a century. Number 13 was first restored to its 1826 look back in 1907, and then re-restored in 1950s. According to the Society's website, that's actually Poe's old bed, from the Allan home in Richmond, VA.

I was in Charlottesville this past weekend with my family, visiting a dear old friend who insisted on showing us this room. So glad he did. Because later, when we toured Monticello, the year "1826" clicked for me. Seems that Thomas Jefferson liked to check on the progress of his University from his study at Monticello, and would look down through a telescope at the construction of the famous Rotunda. Jefferson died July 4, 1826, a few months before the Rotunda was complete.

Does this mean that Jefferson could have caught a glimpse of a youthful Edgar Poe, playing sports on the famous Lawn, during the spring/early summer of 1826?

I'd like to think so.

(Photo by Meredith Swierczynski. Click on the image for a larger view.)

Wade Wilson's War Just Got Bigger

2010-12-01T10:23:00.003-05:00

No, really. The brand-spankin' new hardcover edition of Deadpool: Wade Wilson's War, my collaboration with Jason (Body Bags) Pearson, is slightly larger than the original comic version. (See above: the hardcover is on the left, and original floppy version on the right.) All the better to see Jason's eye-popping and kinetic artwork, I say. And might I suggest that Wade Wilson's War makes the ideal holiday gift for the Deadpool fan in your life? (Available at finer comic shops everywhere, as well as Amazon and B&N.)

When Philadelphia Ruled the Skies

2010-11-30T12:41:00.002-05:00

I stumbled across this amazing illustration while browsing the online Popular Graphic Arts collection at the Library of Congress. (I figure if you're going to procrastinate, might as well do something more constructive than play Angry Birds.) The listing doesn't specify where this originally appeared; the name on the shelf list card is "Webster & Hunter." But it does reminds me of those beautiful, elaborate illustrations that used to appear in Joseph Pulitzer's New York World. Click on the image above for a much more detailed look.

Once upon a time, Philly had the world's tallest habitable building -- our City Hall -- and kept that title until 1908. The other buildings weren't too shabby, either... though I wonder how many still exist. Just off the top of my head, I know the Masonic Temple (#10) and Land Title Building (#15) are still around, and of course they haven't torn down either City Hall or Independence Hall (#9). But the others...? Feel free to share in the comments section, especially if you know where this illustration may have first appeared.

(Illustration courtesy the Popular Graphic Arts collection, Library of Congress.)

Forthcoming Awesome from Stark House

2010-11-29T19:48:00.001-05:00

Stark House Press, those fine purveyors of pulp and hardboiled reprints (and recently, some badass originals) have cool stuff headed our way. First up: two Peter Rabe books that have never seen the light of day: The Silent Wall and The Return of Marvin Palaver, as well as a short story called "Hard Case Redhead." From the Stark House press release:

Shortly before his death in 1990, Rabe had sent these manuscripts to friend and author Ed Gorman, who’s had them in his possession until now. We’re ecstatic to be the ones who are finally bringing these books, along with the short story “Hard Case Redhead,” into the world. In “Redhead,” two thieves and their uninvited guest try to wait out the aftermath of a troublesome heist. It’s hard-boiled and noir and shows that Rabe could write just as well at shorter lengths.

Kind of makes you wonder what other pulp goodies are hiding out in the secret underground lair of Ed Gorman... right next to the giant penny and the huge dinosaur, of course. (Just kidding, Ed.) (Sort of.)

Stark House will also be publishing a two-in-one edition of Gang Girl and Sex Bum by "Don Elliott," who you SF-heads might recognize as the 1960s sleaze paperback pen name of Robert Silverberg.

And finally, Stark House is kicking off their own book club, promising free shipping, no minimum, no obligation to buy. For details you can e-mail Stark House publisher Greg Shepard at griffinskye3 [AT] sbcglobal.net or visit www.starkhousepresscom.

Planes, Trains and Russian Super-Spies

2010-11-24T16:09:00.000-05:00

Just in time for your Thanksgiving holiday reading needs, Black Widow #8 is available in finer comic shops everywhere. (CBR has a preview right here.) It's the conclusion of my first arc, "Kiss or Kill," and cues up the action in Widowmaker, my Widow/Hawkeye/Mockingbird crossover with Jim McCann.

105 Years Ago in Philadelphia

2010-11-20T18:24:00.004-05:00

Here's one of my favorite Philadelphia images from Shorpy.com: the 1905 view from Broad and Spruce streets, with City Hall in the distance, as well as the Academy of Music and the Bellevue-Stratford on the left. (If you were here for NoirCon, and you stayed/drank at the Doubletree Hotel, you were one block up the street.)

Here's the view from almost the same spot today:

A Drink to Wash Down the Noir

2010-11-18T12:37:00.002-05:00

Some say noir is the literature of "no hope." So naturally, a bunch of us are doing a Philadelphia Noir signing in New Hope, PA. This Friday night, editor Carlin Romano will be gathering Noir contributors Cordelia Frances Biddle, Diane Ayres, Dennis Tafoya, Jim Zervanos and yours truly for a special reading and signing party at Marcella's, 7 E. Ferry Street, at 7 p.m. The night is hosted by the awesome folks at Farley's Bookshop, who ran the book tables at NoirCon 2010 a few weeks ago. You can find more details about the event right here.

Best of all: buy a copy of the book, and Farley's will buy you a glass of champagne or wine.

Somehow, I think I forgot to blog about Philadelphia Noir. I'm very proud of my contribution, "Lonergan's Girl," which is set in 1924, making it my first stab at historical crime fiction. (The story is also a prequel to a full-fledged Prohibition-era Philly crime novel I've been writing/researching.) And I'm very proud to be in the company of writers like Tafoya, Romano, Ayres, Biddle and Zervanos, among other usual (and unusual) suspects.

If you're anywhere near scenic New Hope this Friday night, I hope you'll stop by and say hello.

Deadpool and Cable, Together Again

2010-11-16T18:49:00.002-05:00

Wait... is this Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth? Or is it Cable, the time-traveling mutant with the pouch-and-oversized-gun fetish? Could it be both? In the same body? You'll find out in February when you buy multiple copies of...

DEADPOOL & CABLE #26
Written by DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI
Penciled by LEO FERNANDEZ
Cover by DAVE WILKINS

Cable is dead, and no one’s more devastated than his old friend and partner, Deadpool (a.k.a. Wade Wilson, a.k.a. the Merc With the Mouth, a.k.a. the guy who’s in pretty much every other solicit this month). Sitting by Cable’s grave, Deadpool struggles to find the perfect way to honor his fallen mutant pal. Then… light bulb! Deadpool remembers Rumekistan, the troubled and totally fictional European country that Cable once tried to turn into a Utopia on earth. Deadpool travels there to establish up a Cable museum! A Cable amusement park! A Cable cable TV show! But Rumekistan isn’t quite what it used to be, and Deadpool’s appearance only makes things worse. To set things right, Deadpool will have to do more than just honor his old friend -- he must become him!

40 PGS./Parental Advisory …$3.99

(God, do I love this Dave Wilkins cover.)

The Real Boardwalk Empire

2010-11-14T19:56:00.001-05:00

An aerial view of hotels along the Atlantic City, NJ board during the late 1920s. (Click on the photo for a larger view.) Don't know if you're as smitten with HBO's Boardwalk Empire as I am... but either way, it's a rush to see the real thing. I've been to the A.C. boardwalk this past summer, and let me tell ya: it don't look like this no more.

I found this photo in an online collection at the website of The Library Company of Philadelphia, which is a motherlode for Philly history nerds. (If you dig aerials, definitely check out the Aero Service Negative collection right here.) Wait until you see the Philly waterfront photos I dug up...

Friday at NoirCon 2010

2010-11-05T06:45:00.000-04:00

Not everyone is lucky enough to be hanging in Philadelphia this weekend, so pay attention to this space (and my Twitter feed at twitter.com/swierczy) for updates throughout the weeekend. First up: the notorious "noir and porn" panel at 9 a.m. Because there's nothing better than noir and porn for breakfast.

NoirCon, Pre and Post

2010-11-01T17:22:00.001-04:00

NoirCon kicks off in Philadelphia this Thursday, and I couldn't be more excited. Bouchercon is always a blast, but there's something to be said for the smaller, more intimate cons.

If you're anywhere near Philadelphia... or could be!... it's not too late. You can still register and hang out with crime fiction superstars like Megan Abbott, Scott Phillips, George Pelecanos, Christa Faust, Daniel Woodrell and Reed Farrel Coleman (to name just a few). The program is action-packed. The conversation (and drinks) will be flowing. All this, and the City of Brotherly Love, too!

There are also two NoirCon-related, off-campus events I want to mention (and no registration required:

This Wednesday night, NoirCon Eve, Mike White will be signing his fantastic Impossibly Funky: A Cashiers Du Cinemart Collection, at Brickbat Books (7 p.m., 709 South Fourth Street, Philadelphia PA 19147). Packed with groovy film writing, Funky also includes some mighty fine pieces on David Goodis, James Ellroy and Richard Stark's Parker novels. Secret Dead Blog approves.

And then on Sunday afternoon, Philadelphia Noir editor Carlin Romano along with a whole gaggle of contributors, including yours truly, Dennis Tafoya, Meredith Anthony, Keith Gilman and Jim Zervanos, will be reading/signing/hanging at the Moonstone Arts Center (a.k.a. Robin's Books). The event starts at 2 p.m., right around the time your hangover will start to wear off.

If you're attending any part of NoirCon, sound off in the comments section. And if not, check this blog and my Twitter feed (twitter.com/swierczy) for updates straight from the underbelly of the con.

A Civil War Time Machine

2010-10-31T13:14:00.005-04:00

You've seen plenty of serial fiction over the past few years. But what about serial non-fiction?

Today my friend and mentor Jamie Malanowski (of Spy, Time and Playboy fame, as well as author of the political satire novel, The Coup) kicks off an interesting series in the New York Times: weekly, real-time updates of the Civil War story... exactly 150 years after the fact.

The first installment takes place Hallowe'en 1860, a week before the presidential election, and Republican Abraham Lincoln is duking it out with Democrat Stephen Douglas. It's a very rousing read, despite the fact that you may know how things turn out. (SPOILER ALERT: Lincoln will go on to be elected president.) That's the point, though. You can tuck away your history textbooks and fuzzy memories of junior high and experience the era "live," as it unfolded.

And, I hasten to add, there's not a vampire in sight.

This is a very cool experiment; I'll be looking forward to updates each Monday.

100 Years Ago in Philadelphia

2010-10-27T08:07:00.002-04:00

Shorpy, my internet-based time machine of choice, featured this eye-popping photo yesterday. That's the Bellevue-Stratford in Philadelphia, exactly 100 years ago. When you click on the link, definitely open up the high-def version; the detail is unreal.

I've gone on about the Bellevue before; it's one of my favorite buildings in the city, and well worth a visit (especially if you're coming here for NoirCon). Here's how the building looks today:

Still a beaut, ain't she?

Back in Black

2010-10-26T19:09:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow Black Widow #7, part deux of my three-issue arc, hits finer comic shops everywhere. CBR has a preview right here; hope you'll give it a kick.

For Ed Pettit

2010-10-26T11:01:00.002-04:00

I'm guessing that when my friend Ed Pettit, a.k.a. the Philly Poe Guy, shuffles off the mortal coil and floats off to his ideal afterlife, it will be this: a huge library with a smoking section.

(Image from the Temple University Urban Archives, an amazing repository of all things vintage and historic in the City of Brotherly Love. Like them on Facebook; follow them on Twitter. Photo originally taken for the Philadelphia Bulletin on April 2, 1959.)

The Star Whackers Are Coming

2010-10-25T19:45:00.004-04:00

This weekend I read about Randy Quaid's recent... uh, adventures in Canada, and I got a weird feeling in my stomach when I saw this note:

Apparently, Quaid and his wife fled to Canada to escape hit men who target Hollywood stars.

Many people think the Quaids are a few forks short a silverware drawer.

However, I would like to defend Mr. Quaid and his wife, because I happen to know the "Star Whackers" are real. In fact, I wrote an entire novel about them, and Mulholland Books just posted an excerpt from that novel, which I'm calling Fun and Games.

Stay strong, Quaids. Help is on the way.

(Quaid note photo from The Vancouver Sun.)

Date in Germany

2010-10-23T09:29:00.003-04:00

Here's the cover for the German edition of my recent novel, Expiration Date, retitled Alte Feinde (Old Enemies), which is out this month. What's cool about the Heyne editions is that the same design carrying over from title to title to title. Every cover features an object; in this case, it's an hourglass. And as usual, the byline is "Duane Louis," which I've explained earlier.

Special thanks to translator Frank Dabrock, who's had to put up with my weird American-isms (and Philadelphia-isms) four books in a row now.

And not too long ago I received the very good news that Heyne will be publishing the German editions of my new trilogy--Fun and Games, Hell and Gone and Point and Shoot. Wonder if the design will carry forward, or if Heyne will come up with something else. Stay tuned!

Secret Dead Blog Recommends: Pulp History: Devil Dog

2010-10-21T09:32:00.007-04:00

Saying the word "pulp" to me is like saying "grog and whores" to a 19th century sailor; right away you've got my attention.

Say the word "history," and I'm going to lean a little closer. See, I'm a history nerd. When not reading novels, I'm devouring books like Jonathan Eig's Get Capone and Ben Macintyre's Operation Mincemeat and Luc Sante's Low Life.

Put "pulp" and "history" together, and I'm going to pick up the book and take it to the counter and hand the store employee a credit card and then go find some quiet place to read.

Which is what I did in San Francisco this past weekend. I was browsing at City Lights (highly recommended, if you've never been) and saw a curious-looking book on the history shelves: Devil Dog: The Amazing True Story of the Man Who Saved America by David Talbot. It took me about 10 seconds of skimming before I realized that I knew the titular "Devil Dog" very well: it refers to Smedley Butler, the Marine general who was brought to Philadelphia during the mid-1920s to clean up the bootlegging rackets.

But as the cover -- and the word "pulp" -- implies, this is not a plain Jane biography of Butler. Instead you've got a shotgun blast of illustrations and comix (by the legendary Spain Rodriguez), magazine-style sidebars and call-out quotes, archival art and photos, and most importantly, sharp and action-packed writing. Of all the things to be slapped with the "pulp" label over the years, this new series (conceived by Talbot, founder and former editor-in-chief of Salon, and his sister, New Yorker writer Margaret Talbot) really earns it. Devil Dog is relentless in its attempt to entertain, stun, surprise, and -- rather subversively -- shock you with some rather nasty bits of American history.

For instance: I've done a lot of reading about Butler's Philadelphia years, but I had no idea how harrowing Butler's early military career had been. The highlights could be pulp magazine cover lines:

I WAS SHOT IN THE CHEST AND LIVED!

THEIR SEVERED HEADS WERE MOUNTED...
... ON TELEGRAPH POLES!

THE EMPRESS HAD ME STRIPPED AND OILED*

(*Note: It wasn't Butler who alleged he'd been stripped and oiled. You'll have to read the book for more.)

You get the idea, though. And while the details are sensational, Devil Dog isn't sensationalist. It's actually a cold hard shot of truth along the lines of Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States. And Butler emerges not as a 2D pulp-style hero, but a tough, complex, flawed man determined to do the right thing, no matter the personal cost. After reading Devil Dog, I felt like I'd just watched one helluva a biopic, with blood-splattered images right out of a Scorcese film.

The good news? Pulp History is the start of a series. The second installment, Gary Kamiya's Shadow Knights: The Secret War Against Hitler, is at the top of my TBR pile right now.

The bad news: These two are it, for the time being. I have to imagine these take a while to produce, but damn do I want a whole shelf of these things right now.

(UPDATE: One weird bit of synchronicity: I just realized that David and Margaret Talbot, along with brother Stephen, are The Talbot Players, a self-described "story machine" that produces books, documentaries and films. Their offices are in Francis Ford Coppola's famous Sentinel Building in North Beach. Where did I go, after immediately purchasing Devil Dog, to have a drink and thumb through its pages? Coppola's Cafe Zoetrope, in the lobby of that same building.)

Rolling on The Rock

2010-10-18T23:03:00.000-04:00

This weekend I took some time off from Bouchercon to visit Alcatraz, a.k.a. "The Rock."

As seen in crime classics such as Birdman of Alcatraz, Point Blank, The Enforcer, Murder in the First, and of course, The Rock.

Home to such gangland luminaries as Al Capone, "Doc" Barker and Alvin "Creepy" Karpis.

Here's a brief slideshow of my trip.

Bouchercon 2010: Yeah, I Feel Lucky, Punk

2010-10-13T18:20:00.003-04:00

Early tomorrow morning I'm headed off to Bouchercon 2010, which this year is being held in the lovely city of San Francisco. Very happy to be seeing old degenerate friends, as well as meeting new degenerate friends. I might file a blog entry here and there... but no promises. If you want that vicarious Bouchercon feeling, your best bet is follow my Twitter posts (I'll do my best to update as much as possible) as well as the #bcon2010 hashtag. Drink while you read, and it'll be like you're there, swear to God.

And if you're going to be attending Bouchercon, don't be shy. Say hello! I'll most likely react by buying you a drink.

Noir Town, USA

2010-10-13T15:40:00.000-04:00

Faithful Secret Dead Blog readers will know that I traveled cross-country with my family this summer. There are some more details from that trip in a short essay I wrote for Mulholland Books.

Ann-Margret vs. Sqweegel

2010-10-12T18:36:00.002-04:00

Okay, those are four words I didn't think I'd be typing.

But it's true: Sqweegel -- or at least, a black-clad version of him -- will be making a special crossover appearance on this week's CSI (airing Thursday night at 9 p.m.)

Sqweegel, for those who are new to this blog, is the main villain from Level 26: Dark Origins, the novel I co-wrote with CSI creator Anthony E. Zuiker. The next Level 26 novel, Dark Prophecy, is out in hardcover this Thursday, and Anthony came up with the mad genius idea to have Sqweegel, a forensic-proof killer, duke it out with Nick Stokes, Catherine Willows and the rest of gang in this release-day episode.

The guest star is Ann-Margret, people. This means Sqweegel has two degrees of separation from Elvis.

I've been a longtime CSI fan, ever since the Bride turned me on to the show back in... geez, 2003? We'd gorge on the box sets, which were perfect for watching between diaper changes and feedings (our son Parker was barely a year old then). I know this sounds like retro-brown-nosing, but really: I've been hooked on CSI long before I spoke word one to my eventual collaborator. I'm not sure Anthony believes this, but it's true.

So to have a character I worked on make his TV debut is more than a little exciting. When the episode airs, I'll be at Bouchercon in San Francisco. I'm hoping to find a bar that will play the episode so I can watch while I hoist a celebratory cocktail. I hope you guys will have a chance to check it out, too. While I haven't seen the episode, my editor has -- and tells me it is scary as shit.

You can check out a preview right here.

And if you're a Level 26 fan, you should definitely order a copy rightthisminute. (The first novel is just out in paperback from Signet.)

(Photo courtesy CBS Broadcasting Inc.)

My Bouchercon Schedule

2010-10-10T20:13:00.005-04:00

Headed to Bouchercon in San Francisco this week? Have no idea what you're going to do with your Friday? Allow me to humbly suggest two panels, one first thing in the morning, and one in the afternoon. Let's start with the eye-opener:

8:30 a.m.: The Hard Breed: Beyond Novels. Author who write more than just novels. Moderated by Jeremy Lynch. Panel: Gregg Hurwitz, Duane Swierczynski, Robert Ward, Lou Berney, Hal Ackerman. Room: Bayview A.

I think I speak for all of my co-panelists when I say that attendees with bloody mary mix will be especially welcome.

3 p.m.: Murder By Proxy: Mulholland Books Presents. Moderated by John Schoenfelder and Miriam Parker. Panel: Mark Billingham, Marcia Clark, Duane Swierczynski, Daniel Woodrell, Sebastian Rotella. Room: Grand Ballroom C.

Wow, our official coming out party.

Also, at 12:30 p.m., I'll be signing books and hanging out with Jon and Ruth Jordan at the Bouchercon 2011 table. Jen Forbus has the complete rundown right here.

Hope you can drop by one of these three events. If not, please don't be shy about introducing yourself. I'm usually in one of two places: the book room or the hotel bar. (If they served scotch in the book room, I'd probably stay there the whole time.)

Secret Dead Blog Recommends: Following the Detectives

2010-10-06T20:56:00.006-04:00

Place is important to me, as a writer and a reader. As much as I love Ed McBain's books, I've always had a problem with the 87th Precinct series, because I know that "Isola" is just an inverted Manhattan, and I end up trying to do the math in my head. (Wait... is this supposed to be Greenwich Village? Ah, damnit...) See, I want pieces of the real Manhattan in my crime novels, just like I want pieces of real L.A., real New York City, and real San Francisco in my film noir. There's nothing like seeing a place through the eyes of its crime writers and screenwriters.

Which is why Following the Detectives: Real Locations in Crime Fiction (New Holland Publishers), edited by Maxim Jakubowski, is such a pure delight. Jakubowski has gathered a crack team of contributors (Sarah Weinman, Barry Forshaw, Declan Burke, Martin Edwards, J. Kingston Pierce, and Philly's own Peter Rozovsky, among others) to examine 21 locales through the prism of crime fiction. You've got Ian Rankin's Edinburgh; Lawrence Block's New York City; John Harvey's Nottingham; George Pelecanos's D.C., Dashiell Hammett's San Francisco, Arthur Conan Doyle's London... as well as maps, sidebars, and photos galore. Hell, I feel like I've been to Nottingham, after Harvey's candid and revealing essay.

Sure, you could quibble about what you wish might have been included -- personally, I was hoping for Laura Lippman's Baltimore and David Goodis's Philadelphia. But a.) you've gotta draw the line somewhere, and b.) you've gotta save something for the sequel.

And here's hoping there will be a sequel, because I scarfed this baby down in one night.

This is a UK book; I found my copy via Book Depository. But you can also your local indie bookstore to order a copy for you.

New Novella: "Speed Trap"

2010-09-30T20:19:00.001-04:00

Every so often I'll write a novella -- something longer than a short story, yet far shorter than a novel -- and they usually end up in weird places. My sequel to The Blonde, a novella called "Redhead," was found in the back of the paperback edition, as well as available by request as a free PDF. (Offer still good, by the way. Just e-mail me and let me know that you've read The Blonde, and I'll send you back a "Redhead.")

My two interactive mysteries for Quirk (The Crimes of Dr. Watson, Batman: Murder at Wayne Manor) are also technically novellas, neither of them topping 20,000 words.

Over the summer I wrote a novella for IDW's G.I. Joe series called "Speed Trap," which will be included in a G.I. Joe: Cobra Wars anthology (edited by Max Brooks) next spring. But you can read the whole thing -- all 16,000 words of it -- right now, because the "Speed Trap" was included as a bonus feature in G.I. Cobra Special #2, available in finer comic book shops everywhere.

I'm proud of "Speed Trap" because I wrote it while traveling cross-country, and I tried to make use of what I saw on the road. I also tried to fit a novel's worth of plot into 16,000 words, gleefully tossing out anything that didn't keep the story moving, moving, moving. And I'm really happy to see that it's earned some kind words over at CBR.com today.

I'm still in the process of revising "Speed Trap" for the anthology, so Swierczy collectors (all three of you) might want to scoop up this issue, if you'd like to compare an early draft with the finished version.

And you don't have to be a die-hard G.I. Joe-head to appreciate the story; you learn all you need to know along the way. Hope you have a chance to check it out.

Here's Looking At You

2010-09-23T16:49:00.003-04:00

Black Widow #6, my first issue on the series, is now available in finer comic shops everywhere.