One Man's Opinion: BICYCLES, MUSCLES, CIGARETTES by RAYMOND CARVER

I mentioned that I put out a new collection of short stories yesterday. It's no big deal, I just wanted them out there. The new pen name says something about the work. It may be that I don't believe in them enough to put them out as myself. Perhaps I've just lost some confidence. 

I also handed in my final draft of a collaboration I've been working on for a long time. Too long. It's only my final draft because I need to move away from it towards fresh creative pastures. My co-writer will polish and improve it, that's for sure and, believe me, it's in the best of hands. 

There are a few projects in line: a children's book and some kind of literary story that's fermenting slowly in the ether. 

Once they're done, I have a feeling I'll be returning to short story writing for a while. They have a craft of their own. Their succinctness is a bonus in terms of plotting and remembering what the hell's going on (an ageing mind like mine isn't suited for keeping a whole universe inside, so it's probably better that I concentrate on single stars or planets for a while). They need to have a point of focus that, when done, is sharp enough to break through the muscles of the heart.  

Which may be why the Carver stories appeal so much at present.

Bicycles, Muscles, Cigarettes is a cracker. The title had me thinking of bikers or gang fights in the fifties. Made me think of Chad Eagleton and his Hoods, Hotrods, and Hellcats.I noticed on Facebook that Chad's writing something new; that has to be a good thing.   

This Carver tale has a beautiful arc, opening with real tension, branching out into intensity and action then settling into an emotional punch that outweighs any of the violence that has gone before. 

Evan Hamilton has stopped smoking. We learn that right from the off. That in itself does a couple of things. It tells us he's on edge and ready to crack in some way, and it's likely going to excuse him from whatever transpires. 

His son hasn't returned for dinner. A knock on the door from a local teenager disrupts the evening's plans. Evan's son, Roger, is over at the teenager's house. There's been an incident. He won't say what, but Evan needs to go over to help iron things out. 

There's a tension at the house. There's also a tension for the reader, awaiting an explanation for the ratcheting up of the drama. 

A bike has been trashed. Someone needs to own up, maybe even cough up cash. The group of boys under suspicion are sticking to their stories. 

Enter another father, an alpha male, bold, arogant, single-minded and used to getting his own way. 

Evan and the other father don't see eye-to-eye. If Evan could have a smoke, maybe things would have turned out differently. 

The conclusion has a new pace altogether. Here we have a tender scene between Evan and Roger as they reflect upon what happens between fathers and sons. It's a passage to makes the eyes water, filled as it is with profound and, possibly, universal reflections. It comes not as a one-line hit, but more like the collapsing of a ceiling after a steady drip from the pipes above. 

This one really hit home. A total pleasure.  

One Man's Opinion: NOBODY SAID ANYTHING by RAYMOND CARVER

I recently completed the writing of a batch of short stories based upon a particular theme. 

Don't worry, it's not a sales pitch. I've put it out under a different name and won't be sharing that here, so it should be almost impossible to locate.

At about the same time as I began writing, I came across the Raymond Carver collection, Where I'm Calling From in a local charity shop. I've read a lot of the material already, though I haven't touched on his work for well over twenty years. It seemed to me that it might be a decent project for me to review each of the stories as I go, and Nobody Said Anything was the first. 

The title itself, as it does so often, is a huge clue relating to the content. 

It opens with the protagonist and his brother trying to listen in on an argument between their parents. When the father leaves, the narrator pulls a sickie, convincing his mother that he isn't well. His brother, George, doesn't get away with it when he tries the same trick, so the narrator is left alone in the house when the rest of his family leave. 

The boy has a few smokes stolen from his mother and explores the home, curious about privacy and sex. Half way through the day, he decides to go fishing, takes a ride with a middle-aged woman in a rush and ends up working alongside a stranger to attempt to catch a big one. 

There are some delicious moments. My favourite section relates to the teenage fantasies of the youngster and his lift, the what-might-have-beens. His desires are strong, his passions high, yet he still retains the naivety of an innocent, meaning his imagination can only go so far.   

I believe the main theme relates to communication. I was more drawn to the power dynamics of the relationships. In each, one person dominates another, even when that relationship has foundations in love. For the men, that power is often expressed using threat, anger or violence; the women are much more nuanced. 

For a short story, I found it layered like a club sandwich. The bread was great, the filling inconsistent. The solitary fishing expedition at the centre lost me a little. Had me drifting elsewhere. Perhaps that's because I don't fish. It may be because I started thinking about my favourite fishing story, A Bit Of Bread And Jam, by Bill Naughton.    

I felt like one of the fish, on reflection- hooked early, caught tight for a while, soon wriggling free and drawn in again to be captured until the end. 

A great start, only I know there is better to come. 

One Man's Opinion: THIS SWEET SICKNESS by PATRICIA HIGHSMITH

 

This Sweet Sickness starts so well that it's a shame it evolves into a slightly dull and plodding affair. 

The first thirty pages or so are intriguing: David is living in a boarding house with an interesting range of characters, including a young woman who is smitten by him and a middle-aged drinker whose marriage is teetering on the brink. 

To add to the shadowy world of David's existence, we soon discover that he is living a double life of sorts, taking every weekend off to visit his mother and changing his name to William. He also occupies the space reserved for him and the love of his life, Annabelle, with whom he's in regular contact. 

David and Annabelle used to be an item, but when David was called away to work, she married another man, a move that David can neither understand or accept; surely it can only be a matter of time before Annabelle comes to her senses and joins him in the house that he has waiting for her. 

A great setup, then, only the path through the story isn't as slick or as engaging as it might be. The cast of characters and their understanding of the situation becomes implausible, David's mental illness and obsession faintly ridiculous. The prose becomes dense, the elongation of the narrative irksome. 

There are lines that stand out and punch you in the face and descriptions that have real power, yet the overall effect was numbing for me and I couldn't wait for the inevitable ending to arrive. 

Harsh.

But fair.  

Most interesting for me, in the end, was the idea of the boarding house as a setting. It had me thinking of some great noir novels and movies that include them to great effect and I'm off to remind myself of stories where they have impressed. If you have any recommendations, drop a comment. 

One Man's Opinion: VANISHING LADIES by ED McBAIN

 

This is an interesting one, with real strengths and several weaknesses. 

Cop Phil Colby and his fiancée leave town to take a vacation. After being pulled up by a local cop and taken to the magistrate to pay a speeding fine, they arrive late at night to find their destination is lacking the glamour they were hoping for. 

The only place to stay is a shady motel run by an unattractive character with few manners. 

Being the old-fashioned type (very old-fashioned), Colby insists that they take separate rooms. It's a decision he's going to regret very quickly. 

Having tucked in his sleeping partner, Colby returns to his room to find a seductress on his bed. She's a sex worker who is persistent about making a few bucks. Colby only avoids an embarrassing situation when he notices blood pouring in from the adjoining room, which is when everything falls apart. 

His fiancée has disappeared, as have any traces of her existence. In the next room, there's blood but no body and when he returns, the blood will also have vanished. The motel owner insists Colby arrived alone, as does the magistrate and policeman who pulled them up earlier. 

Colby's mission is to find his girlfriend and, failing that, to recover his lost marbles. Not that either will be easy, given the web that is woven around him. 

The plot is strong. It's a great idea and would make an excellent movie, on account of the psychological aspects and the apparent inconsistencies with the chain of events. The characters are pure B-movie noir and this would be wonderful shot in black and white. It's even told in an interesting way, two cop voices recounting their experiences as they appear in court to outline their case. 

What doesn't work so well is the writing quality. Those voices don't feel genuine, especially for Cop #2. It's somehow unrealistic given the situation and there's more flower to the decoration than there ought to be. The prose feels rushed, like it was hammered out on the typewriter at blistering speed to meet a deadline or simply to flesh out a very good idea. 

For me, this worked really well as a throwaway traveling companion. It was read in a couple of sittings and was never dull. That's mainly down to the storyline and the pacing. 

Vanishing Ladies is far from McBain's best, but if there are any screenwriters out there looking for a terrific idea, they could do far worse that give this one a go.   

Watch Your Mouth

I've been reading, and mostly enjoying, a police procedural that has a pretty good plot. It also has great characters, a fine setting and decent pacing. 

Fairly early on, I found myself picking up on the use of mouth references, mostly employed to break conversation. 

It started to become irritating and definitely detracted from the read.

I'm not sure why the references bug me so. Perhaps its because these actions aren't visible to me in everyday life and in real conversation. I think it works in films to suggest many things, but when it's written, it completely turns me off. 

Towards the end, I was reading on a train with my pen marking the instances I came across. The journey was just over twenty minutes. 

Here's what I found: 

presses his lips together

T chews his lip

H licks his lips

his lower lip seems to tremble

moisture fills her mouth

clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth

she says, tight-lipped

sucks his teeth

sucks in his cheeks

presses his lips together into a tight, bloodless line

It's easily done, I know. We often write using pet movements and often don't even realise they're there. The writer is forgiven, just about, but the editor of the book is most definitely not. 

Be careful out there. 

One Man's Opinion: SITTING (IN SILENCE) by KITTY FALCON

 

I do enjoy Edinburgh during festival season. Perhaps that's because I don't live there anymore, but for me it has a buzz and vibrancy that's difficult not to love.

Wandering through the city, senses are bombarded with sparkly clothes, booming voices, dancing bodies, pumping music and a raging sea of flyers that parts as you approach. Everyone is vying for your attention and will do almost anything to get it. 

You have to remember, however, as you move through the throngs, that it's not always those who shout loudest who have the most to say; if anything, the opposite is often the case, something that certainly applies to the wonderful Sitting (In Silence) by Kitty Falcon. 

A young woman sits on a forest floor covered with white leaves. Her attempts at meditation are interrupted by her father, who arrives full of energy and rebellion to disturb her self-imposed contemplation. The pair are soon sharing memories tinged with joy, tenderness, sadness, humour and pathos. As is typical of family life, the emotions here run deep, and the actors show great agility as they step from the light into the shadows and through to the darkness and back again. Along the way, a weave of cleverly drawn hints shows the direction in which we're heading, though it's not until the end that the full picture becomes clear, a mark of the high quality of writing.  

The play is performed in the beautiful anatomy theatre of an old veterinary college in Summerhall; what better place could there be to witness the subtle dissection of complicated lives and relationships? 

For me, Sitting (In Silence) is the perfect antidote to the manic torrents of the fringe. I'm reminded of the way a gentle stream has the strength to cut its way down the hillside. This play carries all the force of water and, as the story unfolds, has the power to erode even the stoniest of hearts.  

Highly recommended.     

 

 

One Man's Opinion: JIMMY THE KID by DONALD E WESTLAKE

 

I was scouring a pile of second-hand books in a store a while back and came across this. 

Truth be told, I almost let it slip through my fingers, which I don't think I can be blamed for given the cover. It looks like a kids' book, the kind that will get a class of children laughing. 

Funny thing is, I reckon I could have read it to a class of children when I was still teaching (Primary 6 or Primary 7, maybe) and I also think they'd have loved it if I had. 

I certainly did. 

It's definitely an odd thing. A gang of misfit crooks decides to carry out a kidnapping based on a Parker novel called Child Heist by Richard Stark. It even quotes sections of the book to help to make sense of the gang's interpretation. It seemed so well written, I had to check in with my favourite search engine to make sure it wasn't a title I'd missed (which it isn't), and you won't be surprised that it sounded like authentic Stark given that Westlake was the writer. 

Of course, the whole thing unravels as the gang either trip over themselves, are hampered by misfortune or are simply outsmarted by their young hostage. 

Jimmy The Kid is often silly and playful, yet it's very well put together. The comedy is sharp, there's tension in spite of the obvious direction of events and there's some jolly good character and description, to boot. It also has a pleasing twist that does exactly what it should for the reader (well played).

I shouldn't have been surprised that it was actually very good or upon discover that it was even made into a movie. I'm also happy to say that I picked up a copy of Nobody's Perfect at the same time (similar awful cover), and I can't wait to jump in. 

One Man's Opinion: DESTROYING ANGEL by RICHARD PAUL RUSSO

I'm not sure if this is available other than as an audiobook or second hand. My link is to the audiobook, though I read it rather than listened. I have every confidence it's well worth a listen. 

Louis Tanner is an ex-cop, scarred by memories and experiences and just about keeping himself afloat. He's obsessed with the murders of the Chain Killer, whose return he sees first hand while taking a drink with a friend when a couple are pulled from a swampy lagoon, chained back-to-back and tattooed with the mark of the murderer. 

The scene is also witnessed by a teenage girl, Sookie, a streetwise child of an insane world who is just about managing to survive the dangers she encounters in daily life. As well as seeing the bodies, she clocks Tanner, something that creates a fascination with the man that will send her deeper into peril. 

Tanner gets in touch with an old colleague on the force, Frank Carlucci. Though they share the same ambition in terms of solving the case, they're cagey with each other and both are mean with their truths. 

The Chain Killer's return means Tanner has to leave the relative safety of an anarchic society based in a world of environmental unpleasantness and general chaos, to enter another area of his city where insanity reigns. Nobody in their right mind would enter The Core, so Tanner fits right in. 

The backdrop for the search for the killer is fantastic, essentially because Russo has created a cast of misfits, tribes and subcultures that demonstrate a wonderful imagination. They are visually stunning and their behaviour is unorthodox and unpredictable, Tanner's nemesis being among the most bizarre. 

Tanner's mission is tense and gripping. There's a real edge to the work and the ending has a real edge that befits the story. 

Definitely one to seek out.    

DRAWN IN

I mentioned to a friend that Drawn In is free this weekend. He asked me when I wrote it. Six or seven years ago was my guess. Turns out it's over ten years since it was first published. How time flies. 

This is a favourite of mine. Written for a very particular publisher who was putting out work in episodes, each chapter is roughly the same length. It was a challenge to meet these parameters and I think it's all the better for it. 

Called a gem of magical realism, as well as being labelled romantasy by some, I find it very difficult to categorise. 

Whatever the genre, it's free for the next few days, here in the US and here in the UK. 

 I hope you like it as much as I do. 

TWO-WAY SPLIT: THE RETURN OF A NOIR HEAVYWEIGHT

 

You've got this book, I'm sure. If you haven't, then read on and then go and get yourself a copy. It belongs on any noir fan's shelves. 

It's over 20 years since this was first published, which I'm finding difficult to comprehend. Hell, that's a long time. It was a Theakstons Old Peculiar Crime Novel Of The Year back in 2007 and launched the writing career of the writing talent that is Allan Guthrie. 

More importantly, it altered the direction of my life and, for that, I feel very fortunate indeed. Let me explain.

I happened to be passing Waterstones on Princes Street when I saw a poster for an event. It explained that Al would be reading from his debut novel. I can't recall whether there were any books on display or whether I checked them out, but the cover for it was so insanely good and insane that I needed to go along. It was a special evening. The reading blew me away and the Q&A went so well that I bought my copy and I loved it for it's energy, darkness and noir sensibilities. In short, it broke the mould for me, or possibly reset an old mould created long ago across the pond. On a personal and from the point of view of my writing, the rest is history.

What was that you said? You missed it the first time around? Well have no fear, it's just been re-released by Grey Dog Books with a brand new cover. It's even out there as an Audiobook via Audible, read by the talented Angus King. 

In case I haven't convinced you, check out what these others had to say:

Praise for Two-Way Split:

"With razor-sharp characterisation and an evocative sense of place, the novel's pace never relents: the supremely damaged characters that Guthrie conjures up are seldom let off the hook, and stew throughout in their fetid juices. Dark and splendid." — The Guardian

"Seek him out and buy his book." — Ian Rankin

"Excellent." — George Pelecanos

"In the tradition of Irvine Welsh and Ian Rankin, Allan Guthrie chronicles life in the underbelly of Edinburgh with dazzling grace. TWO-WAY SPLIT is a hard-edged, fast-paced noir thriller with outstanding dialogue and plenty of unforgettable bad guys. It's Scottish crime fiction with a unique American hard-boiled twist." — Jason Starr

"Scottish crime noir at its best" — Sunday Independent

"the tension ratchets up with each snatch of mayhem" — Sunday Herald

"...a memorable and stunning and pitch-perfect debut and one you should grab forthwith. I can't remember a first novel this good in a long, long time." — Mystery Scene

"Allan Guthrie is a master at giving readers heroes who are anti-heroes, people who they can easily identify with and care about. In Guthrie’s world, unconventional becomes conventional, sanity is found in madness, love springs from the dark. Critics are fond of calling books like Guthrie’s neon noir or hard-boiled fiction. Call it anything you want, but read ‘Two-Way Split.’ It is damn good fiction." — The New Review 

And here's what it's all about:

Winner of the Theakston’s Crime Novel of the Year and shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger, TWO-WAY SPLIT announced the arrival of a major new voice in crime fiction.

One bad decision. No way out.

Robin Greaves is having a very bad day. When compromising photographs surface, revenge is on his mind, but the robbery meant to fix everything goes catastrophically wrong.

Now he’s on the run. The police are closing in. Two private detectives are circling for their own grubby reasons. And somewhere in the chaos, a ruthless killer has decided Robin needs to die.

For most people, that would be enough. For Robin, it’s worse – he hasn’t been taking his medication. Reality is slippery. Paranoia is rising. And every choice he makes drags him deeper into trouble.

TWO-WAY SPLIT is a lean, ferocious crime thriller, stripped to the bone and powered by hard violence, black humour and a dangerously unstable central character. It never lets its protagonist off the hook and it never lets the reader catch their breath.

One Man's Opinion: BAD BLOOD by SJ ROZAN

 

I’ve been reading Proust, hence the radio silence of late. Somehow, I don’t think you’d care much about my musings on his musings. I certainly don’t think I have much to say other than I’ve enjoyed my meanderings so far.

I also finally got round to reading Tortilla Flat, another classic, and I’m glad I did. Other than some difficult slurs that kept jolting me from the rhythm, the steady build up of layers as each new story brought a new facet to the picture was extremely satisfying. I recommend it as a read, with the caveat that the characters often use terms that are offensive.

SJ Rozan’s Bad Blood (aka Stone Quarry) merits a return to the blog.

I’ve not read a PI novel for a while and had an itch for the familiarity a only a detective could bring.

Bill Smith leaves the city to consider taking on a new case. He meets up with his prospective client in Antonelli’s Bar where he already has history (saving the neck of the barman’s delinquent brother, Jimmy). At the end of the evening, the barman is taken outside, threatened and attacked by the local gangster. Smith intervenes, and in doing so becomes involved in a feud that just won’t let him go.

It turns out that the case he takes on is that of a famous artist who lives incognito in the neighbourhood. Six of her early paintings have gone missing and she wants them back before they surface on the market. It’s not that she’s worried about losing the value of the pictures, rather she’s concerned that the works will lessen her reputation.

The case might be relatively simple, only the body of one of the previous night’s attackers is discovered in the basement of the bar and all the evidence suggests that young Jimmy is the perp. Now it seems everyone wants to find Jimmy and only his brother and Smith have his interests at heart.

When things get truly difficult, Smith calls in Lydia Chin and the action really thickens.

As is required in such a story, there are many threads to the tale. What I like about it is that all the complications are justified. When everything is tied up, each set of motives is consistent with the way things play out, whether that’s for the competing cops, the local businessman looking for his missing daughter, the gangster, the corruption, the possible land grab, the artist, the barman and Smith himself. Given the nature of the plot, that’s no small thing.

I enjoyed it so much, I decided that there’s more room in my life for the Private Investigator, which is handy because, while out walking yesterday, I came across a beautiful 1966 Penguin Classic copy of The Big Sleep in a book box. Sure, I’ve read it several times already and done the film to death, but the universe seems to be pointing me in that directions and who am I to ignore such a welcome gift?

One Man's Opinion: THE INVISIBLE CIRCUS by JENNIFER EGAN

 

'Wolf was laughing, too, but always after a pause, as if Phoebe's high spirits were bright coins fluttering down to him through deep water.' 

There are some authors who keep pulling you back to their work, and Jennifer Egan is in that category for me. 

Given the themes, I'm surprised I haven't got to her debut novel earlier. There's a flashback section that delves into the hippie scene in San Francisco at the end of the sixties, drugs, European travels, mentions for Richard Brautigan, and the involvement of The Red Army Faction, as well as the dark undertones of a life that's fallen apart. What's not to like?

It tells the story of Phoebe, a complex character from an interesting family, whose sister took her own life in a small coastal town in Italy. Phoebe is unable to pull away from the attraction of the mystery surrounding her sister's adventures and eventual death and checks out of her dull existence to travel in her sister's shoes, following a trail left by a collection of fading postcards. 

It's a fabulous tale, beautifully told, with the poetic description and multi-faceted characters to whom I've grown used to. 

There are two key sections, divided by a fulcrum event where the see saw tips into a new direction. 

Part One is American set and takes us to her early travels in Europe. The layers and complications are delicious, Phoebe's gentle unravelling a treat to behold. 

Part Two is the sharp end of the tale, Phoebe meeting her sister's ex-boyfriend, Wolf, who has never returned to the US and has settled for a low-key life in Germany. It's where we find out exactly what happened, the fluctuations in the pair's relationship keeping everything in sharp focus. 

The only part of the book that I didn't enjoy was the pivotal point of change, where Phoebe goes on a different type of journey, dropping a blotter of acid and experiencing a bad trip that throws her entirely off balance. It jarred a little, perhaps because it didn't ring true, but wasn't a problem as it's such a short episode.

It's the kind of book I adore, a gripping tale told with an eloquence and delicious imagery. 

I'm definitely going in more Egan, that's for sure.  

the resurrection (part two)

 

smoke

Further to yesterdays long post about the demise of Down & Out books, here's resurrection (part two). 

Though it's been poorly handled and there have been some very poor decisions made by D & O, there is a sliver lining. 

I now have the rights back to five titles I'm very proud of. 

The Rat Pack series is currently awaiting some attention and may well rise from the ashes soon in a very positive way (fingers crossed everything comes off). 

Smoke is having its third resurrection. It was initially published by Trestle Press, but I took it back when they were shown to be less than rigorous in their processes. It was then published by the wonderful Blasted Heath and the amazing All Due Respect. Here it is again just as a self-published title. 

In Loco Parentis also has a new, self-pubbed lease of life. It's a controversial book that is either loved or hated (more split than any other of my books, I think). It had a terrific start to life with over thirty thousand downloads with its first free promotion (it was a free promo, pre-Bookbub, if you can imagine that). I love it and I hope you might, too. 

To celebrate the resurrections, I'd like to give either a late or an early Easter gift to readers, so both kindle titles can be downloaded for free this weekend over at Amazon. 

in loco parentis

the resurrection (part one)

 

I was confused earlier this week when Down & Out books updated their Facebook page with an image of festive celebration. My first response was to write and angry comment and ask what the hell they were thinking about, given the bitterness many have felt since the anouncement of their sudden demise a few months ago. I took a deep breath and paused for a while, then wrote a less angry comment, though one of definite disapproval. Later on, when wondering if there had been other replies, I noticed that there was a new post informing us that Down & Out was returning under new management and that exciting times lay ahead. I deleted my initial thoughts and added something more supportive. Down & Out is to be resurrected. 

Hallelujah?

I had so many thoughts that I felt it might be best to share them on the blog rather than let them spin inside my head. So, here goes.

My qualifiers here are that I have a terrible memory, which means exact detail and sequence may not be exact. I'm also pretty lazy, which means checking up on dates and sequences of events is something I'm not going to do. What I lay out below will not be perfect, but the spirit will be accurate. 

As an opening, I was offered the chance of having a couple of my books published with All Due Respect (who, I think at that time were already under the D&O umbrella). Chris Rhatigan was at the ADR helm and he was a real shining star of integrity, talent and enthusiasm. He took on my novella Smoke (which had previously been published by the wonderful Blasted Heath who closed their doors in an exemplary way, looking after authors with respect, kindness and a hint of regret - hats off to Allan Guthrie and Kyle MacRae for that) and my novel In Loco Parentis. The quality of interaction with Chris was high, his editing superb and the covers were top notch (the one for In Loco Parentis by JT Lindroos is still my personal favourite). The books came out and they sold in trickles, as is typical with noir fiction on the whole, and I was very happy.

Some time later, I completed the first book of the Rat Pack series, Let It Snow. It was a deliberate attempt to create something with a wider appeal, being a little more mainstream and rooted in my passion for Ed McBain's 87th Precinct series. I sent it to D&O and was thrilled to have the book accepted (I wasn't sure it had been read, given the quick turnaround, but I had a good reputation and I was already on their books, so it was no major surprise). Even better, or so I thought, there was the offer for the first three books in the series (I'd mentioned the plan in my approach) and I grabbed it with both hands. 

When I passed on the news to a respected and very experienced writer friend, he was less enthusiastic than I'd expected. He was especially doubtful about the three-book deal and suggested I change that right away. I explained that, because I had signed the contracts, I felt honour-bound to stick to my word. he tried to talk me out of it, explaining that it really was no big deal for me to change my mind, but I felt I couldn't change my decision even if I realised I was most likely wrong. 

Let It Snow's beginnings were a bit shaky. The editing process was more complicated than I was used to. The cover was rather generic. Everything took a little more time that I expected and felt a little clunky, but the book eventually came out and there was a reasonable landing. It found a small audience, but not one as wide as I felt it deserved. They did get me an interview, in fairness, which was as far as promotion seemed to go.

Undaunted, I moved on to writing My Funny Valentine. This was stronger than Book 1, was much tighter and delved deeper into the characters and developed their lives really well. This time, I had some issues with the cover. The first suggestions were terrible. So were the next. I was surprised at the difference between the genius of JT and the new ideas. Eventually, I made a few suggestions and when a half-decent cover came out I accepted it. What worried me most was that there was no sense of this being a series. There was no attempt to suggest any continuity in the books and that didn't make sense. 

After each release, I heard back from some trusted readers that there were numerous mistakes in the text (partly my fault, I'm sure) that I'd expected to have been ironed out in the editing process. Lists of errors were long, some translations from the UK to the US were baffling. It was disappointing, but I was grateful for the help of my friends and manuscripts were updated. 

Along the way, there were several updates (six-monthly?) on sales and payments were made as expected. And sales were improving. That was, in the main, because I was lucky enough to get a non-US Bookbub for Let It Snow. I explained to the publisher that I had this arranged and that I needed the price drop to be on time (which it was). I paid for it myself and tried to rally some energy and support from D&O - perhaps they'd work on interviews and blogposts as well as social media support and maybe even take out a few cheaper ads of their own. They suggested nothing. It became clear to me at that point that promotions and sales weren't their forte; in fact, I'd go further and suggest that they had no interest in promotion or sales as far as I could see, which was weird (I thought that was what publishers were meant to focus upon once books were taken on). 

I began watching the sales rankings on other Down & Out releases. They were always woeful. I kept seeing enthusiastic posts about writers who had signed contracts with them and my heart sank every time. Maybe I should have expressed my concerns publicly at that point as a warning to others, but getting a publisher feels like such a big deal that I didn't want to burst bubbles. I also felt some kind of loyalty to the family. Looking back, I wish I'd handled things differently. 

By the time Aint That A Kick In The Head came out, I had all but given up on sales and promotion. Rather than feel like a hub of activity and energy, D&O felt more like collectors of crime titles than anything else. I looked upon them as a graveyard for crime writers (and many amazing writers at that). 

It was about this time that communication pretty much dried up. 

Gone were the regular sales updates and payments, even though I could see that my titles were still occasionally selling. In the end, I became so frustrated that I contacted them and asked for updates. Lance gave me a fairly quick reply (in fairness, he always responded to my questions and was always supportive and polite). I also got some payment at that point, which was about a year ago as far as I can remember, and I was grateful for that. 

And then came the sudden news of their demise. An email to all us authors informing us that D&O was shutting its doors.

My first reaction was one of relief, I kid you not. I had often thought about asking to get the rights back anyway. I'd seen others I respect doing so. I didn't feel any books there got the support they deserved. I was resigned to the Rat Pack novels just sinking into the mulch and disappearing forever. 

And then I reread the email. There would be no payments offered to authors for any sales already made. 

WTF?

They had to be kidding, right? I can't have been understanding them correctly. 

And yet, it was exactly what they meant. 

I didn't feel bad for myself because if they owed me anything, it was probably in the low tens of dollars and that only because I'd chased it up a year before. But the others out there? Some were royally screwed. 

Beau Johnson was the most vocal about the shoddy treatment. He was led to believe that there was a future for more of his books with them and went on heavily promoting his work while the plug was being pulled. In short, it appears that D&O happily allowed Beau to continue making money for them (inlcuding a big order of books made for an event) when they had no intention of honouring payments. Which is appalling. 

There will be others left heavily out of pocket, too. The whole thing is a disgrace. It tarnishes Eric Campbell's reputation. Makes you wonder what he was thinking. I know a lot of folk have said he's a terrific guy. I've never met him, but after this, I'd suggest that he really isn't. There may be extenuating circumstances (mental health, financial etc), so I don't want to go in too heavily just in case, but it feels like theft and fraud to me. It's certainly not the way to go about business and is definitely an insult to friends and colleagues alike.

I suspect things just failed so badly that the only thing to do was to shut the doors. It failed so badly because it had no sense of direction or purpose other than as a collector and, possibly, a badge of honour and status that really was worthless. 

And then there was the inevitable chaos that followed the demise.

From my point of view, Lance did everything. As he wasn't in control, he was (it seemed to me) stuck in the middle. There were mentions of rights being returned, yet it wasn't automatic (there were many authors, so perhaps the delays were inevitable). Eventually, and upon request, the rights of all five of my books came back. I asked for covers (the Rat Pack ones weren't really of interest, but I felt it would be good to have original copies anyway, preferably without the logo) which never appeared. I asked several times (scratched records) for the return of best-copy manuscripts and eventually got them (I never asked for best-copies upon completion of editing earlier on, so this was really important in terms of saving me huge effort when looking for a new direction). I didn't bother asking for money. 

And there was also the period (possibly still ongoing) where books were available for sale even though rights were returned. The distributor may have been slow here, but it's still very unsatisfactory.

On the positive side, JT Lindroos (occasional cover designer for D&O) was steady and professional. He dug out a copy of the ILP cover he designed to send to me and took it further, removing the logo and adjusting the cover to accommodate that change. He also got onto Facebook and offered the covers to any authors if he had them. Just a nice, thoughtful and human thing to do. I also had some kind words of support from some old Facebook friends and all of them were gratefully received. 

The whole thing has been a shambles, so when I saw that festive update, I practically choked on my bile. 

It turns out that there is to be a resurrection of Down & Out. I'm unclear as to what this means for authors who choose to stick around. I emailed the address offered by the new boss/es and had a very prompt response from Joe, which was reassuring. 

I can't know how things have moved from one owner to another. I suspect Joe (and others?) has taken this one without any money changing hands and that it's a genuine attempt to salvage something from the ashes. I really hope this is the case. As far as I can tell, payments due from the previous owners are still not going to be made; in the circumstances, I don't feel Joe should automatically shoulder this and believe this is still on Eric's plate. 

I'll be happy to support a future incarnation of D&O, but not with my books. For authors considering sending submissions, I'd urge the utmost caution. Be patient. Watch for a while Wait and see how this pans out. 

I hope there will be positive outcomes as things change. I'm crossing my fingers, but not holding my breath.

     

One Man's Opinion: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by ED McBAIN

 

Well, here's a rare thing. In fact, it's a first for me. An Ed McBain novel that I haven't enjoyed. I say I haven't enjoyed it, but I didn't really give it a chance. Twenty pages in and I'm throwing it onto the place where the Did Not Finish pile would be if there were any other books there. 

I can't explain what it is that stopped me from carrying on. The introduction has Matthew Hope defending a man suspected of murdering his gay brother in the aftermath of a party. 

Attitudes are somewhat outdated, and I can often live with that, but I'm not sure I like Matthew Hope and didn't feel I could be bothered to get to know him. 

Not for me then, unless you pile in and convince me that it's worth making the effort.

One Man's Opinion: LEONARD AND HUNGRY PAUL by RONAN HESSION

 

It's a long while since I did Tai Chi and read the Dao Of Pooh. I was reminded of this when I opened Leonard And Hungry Paul in that it was clear I was in for a change of pace, being used to reading and writing pulse-raising stories in the main. 

Leonard And Hungry Paul is a charming book that continues to gently glow from the first page to the last. 

The pair might well be described as misfits, but the friendship is stronger than most, meaning Leonard has been all but adopted into Hungry Paul's family. They are creatures of habit, enjoying board games and moments of togetherness within a life of routine and security. 

But things change (oddly Things Change is a film that sticks in my memory and is also brought to mind by this novel). Hungry Paul's sister is getting married, Leonard's mum has recently died and he has finally met someone who might consider starting a relationship with him. The ripples of the alterations to life are gentle, yet contain power. The nature of what is to come is uncertain, yet Hungry Paul is unperturbed. He's a Winnie the Pooh type character, centred and wise, carrying within the ability to impact upon the world and those around him with minimal effort, desire or even intention.

The stories within flow like a bubbling stream. Though it has the required tension to create a narrative drive, the pleasure of the read lies elsewhere: in the thoughtful observations, the light touches, warming humour, solid relationships and laugh-out-loud moments. 

Spending time with Leonard, Hungry Paul and the cast of surrounding characters is a real treat. It's a book to be savoured, to share and to keep on the shelves never to be sent on to the charity shop.

I believe it will soon be released as a TV series and I, for one, can't wait to see it. 

     

One Man's Opinion: IN DUBIOUS BATTLE by JOHN STEINBECK

 

In Dubious Battle. What a treat. It's a tale of politics and social commentary, but to my mind it's also a noir cracker. 

In the opening chapter, protagonist Jim Nolan walks away from his life to dedicate himself to the communist party. Right from the off, we know that it's a move that will involve personal sacrifice and hardship, but that barely covers what lies ahead of him. It's also the point when I knew I'd been here before. Perhaps I've read it already. Probably have, which is one of the benefits of having a terrible and fading memory (the second time round can be as refreshing as the first). 

Jim heads off with his mentor, Mac, to the orchards of California. They've got wind that the owners are cutting the price for apples picked and so there's an opportunity to organise protest, after all, if the price for picking apples is accepted, it will be the cotton plantations next.

They arrive in town and head straight for a diner whose owner is sympathetic to their cause. Meals are on the house and soon they'll also be able to use the land of the owner's father to camp out when striking workers will be made homeless once they withdraw their labour.  

It's not easy being Reds. Even though the cause is clearly just and the capitalist bosses are unscrupulous, many of the workers are anti-communist and the pair need to stay in the shadows where possible. They choose the most likely leaders among the migrants and set about organising a democratic structure. 

What comes next is a richly drawn-out story about human nature, conflict, politics and purpose. There's tension and action aplenty. There are the local authorities to battle, the press to suffer, they need to find enough food for the masses, the camp needs a doctor and has to be sanitary, the vigilantes are vicious thugs and the mood of the (mostly) men is as fickle as the wind. 

Steinbeck is clearly a sympathiser to the cause. He's shining a light on something he believes needs attention. All the same, he's astute enough to explore the complexities. Not all of the townsfolk are heartless. Not all of the strikers are beyond reproach. The nature of the mass mentality is unpredictable. Their actions can be frightening and their choices poor. The motives of the party will ignore the needs of the few in order to influence the many and the blinkers required by party members have to be thick. Life is brutal and it's the toughest that will survive; if they don't succeed this time, maybe they'll live on to fight in the next battle.

The novel carries real weight. It feels important and got me thinking, which is always a good thing. 

I finished it yesterday, just after a visit to the excellent Resistance exhibition at the Modern Two Gallery in Edinburgh where the photographs on show capture moments of social and political movements of the past, whether organised by large groups or growing from tiny seeds. At a time when the ugly face of the right is unmasking itself and, for some crazy reason, dominating much of our politics, the images and In Dubious Battle feel important. There should be no place for racist, divisive selfishness in our minds and actions and where it appears, someone needs to stand up and fight back. At some place along the line, that someone will have to be you. You don't need to go as far as Mac and Jim, but you do need to find a way to get your skin in the game.

MOVEMENT OF 24th SEPTEMBER

 

Music by the amazing Barge Calm Delta. Reminds me a little of The Residents. How good is that? Check it out if you don't need your hand held or you don't need all your roads to be straight. 

One Man's Opinion: SAINT OF THE NARROWS STREET by WILLIAM BOYLE

 

I had high expectations of Saint Of The Narrows Street. It has a great author and some fab ingredients. In the end, however, I left it feeling slightly disappointed. 

The opening drips with atmosphere and character, carrying the heavy stamp of Brooklyn. A View From A Bridge came to mind, the claustrophobic apartment that is a family home wonderfully drawn. Inside it, a young mother and her sister mind a child, awaiting the return of the youngster's aggressive and unpredictable father. Said father has a gun and a lover. The kitchen is full of knives. It's never going to end well. 

From the incident framing the opening, the story unfolds with guilt and darkness seeping in and rotting away at the insides of all involved. There's a body to dispose of, there are those keen to find out what happened and there's a child who is disconnected from his foundations. 

Stripping it back to its basics, there's a solid story in there. What held it back for me were the references and stories of the neighbourhood, all surrounding people with interesting names, possibly there to add flavour, but for me detracting from the main drivers. I can't quite put my finger on why, but I gradually lost emotional engagement with those involved, which meant the outcomes had less power than I feel they could/should have been. 

I suspect I'm in the minority on this one as it's been very well received. If you're into lots of life-on-the-streets gangster nostalgia, you'll probably dig it and the opening is worth the entry fee so it might well be worth taking a chance. 

Crime, it is. Crime And Punishment, maybe not.    

 

One Man's Opinion: CAUGHT STEALING

 

I go to the cinema a lot. This year, I've averaged a trip per week. On top of that, I've been to two film festivals, where new blood work with the medium of film producing work that has a very different dynamic than the mainstream. 

Posting here about films isn't something I do. Perhaps that's something I should change. I came close with some of my faves of 2025 (The Companion, The Ballad Of Ellis Island, Sinners) and some of the worst views (The Alto Nights and Marching Powder). Regardless of the direction I take, I came out of Caught Stealing with such a spring in my step that I wanted to give it some space.

It's based on the novel of the same name by Charlie Huston, who was heavily involved in the adaptation. Though I don't want to say too much about the plot, it tells the story of a bartender with a drink problem, Henry 'Hank' Thompson. He's screwed up his life once already, having thrown away a baseball career as a youngster, killing a friend and messing up his knee in a car crash. His life's edgy, but he's hanging in there, helped by his girlfriend and his mates at work. 

When his neighbour, a mohawked English punk rocker, leaves the country to visit his dying father, Hank is kind enough to look after his cat. 

A couple of dodgy geezers show up in search of something important at the punk's flat. Hank can't help them as he has no idea what might be inside and, because he knows nothing, takes a brilliantly violent beating. 

Enter the cops. The lead detective gets involved, letting Hank know that there may be another criminal gang searching for whatever it is that's missing, that both crews are deadly serious and, well, just deadly. 

From here it spirals from one nightmare to another. The action comes thick and fast, the outcomes often being unexpected. There are toe-curling moments and stomach-churning scenes. It's an adrenaline-fueled ride that has a retro feel to it, a noir edge that I'd welcome much more of on our screens. 

I don't remember enjoying the bad guys as much in a film for a very long time. They're dark, vicious and superbly played, with a fantastic capacity for causing pain in original ways. 

Add to this an excellent soundtrack (courtesy of Idles) and you have something very special indeed.

Austin Butler is perfect for the central role. I loved him in The Bikeriders and he's only gone up in my estimation here.

There are some syrupy aspects to the story and you might have to let a couple of issues slide, but you really should get along and give this a try. A+ action, brilliant violence, ace characters, anarchic plot, surprising twists and coherently crazy. What's not to like?