The 2025 edition of the Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity conference is in the rearview. I can’t think of a conference with a more welcoming atmosphere, or where you’ll get more bang for your buck if you’re looking to meet and talk with authors while learning about the craft. As an example, I have as many notes from the two half-days and one full day of C3 as I have from the two half-days and three full days of Bouchercon.
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity 2025
Sunday, September 21, 2025
Summer's Favorite Reads
This is a longer post than usual, but I had an excellent summer of reading.
On
Tyranny, Timothy Snyder. I
bought this during 45’s administration but didn’t get around to reading it
until now. Only about sixty pages long, Snyder shows the similarities of
authoritarian takeovers, most of which have a disconcerting resemblance to what
we’re going through now.
Way
Down on the High Lonely, Don Winslow. Few writers have the ability to
write such consistently excellent books that are each so different. This one
takes us into the mountains, where what started out as the search for a missing
child turns into PI Neal Carey finding himself in the middle of a war with
white supremacists. All the Winslow touches are here, which means I liked it a
lot.
A Few
Days Away, Tony Knighton. This is the first of Knighton’s books I’ve
read, but I’ll be back. Knighton’s Nameless Thief draws a little from Hammett’s
Continental Op and a lot from Richard Stark’s Parker to create a story that is
as tightly-written as the plot is explosive. A great read from start to finish.
Get
Shorty, Elmore Leonard. I’ve read this at least half a dozen times and
it still makes me laugh. Leonard’s funniest book and still my favorite, though
I’ll admit several have more compelling stories. (Such as? Hombre, City
Primeval, Glitz, Swag, and probably a couple of others that aren’t coming
to mind right now. None are more fun.)
Fog
City, Claire M. Johnson. A 1930 San Francisco PI leaves town, placing
the agency in the hands of his young secretary. She wants to do more than keep
the lights on and continues to accept cases, one of which puts her well in over
her head. Johnson captures the aura of Prohibition-era San Francisco as well or
better as anyone since Hammett, and Maggie Laurent is a character whose
diligence and enthusiasm make her easy to root for.
November
Road, Lou Berney. I re-read this
as part of preparing to moderate a panel at Bouchercon and liked it even better
the second time. Not so much an alternative history as a ‘what if’ story of
what could happen when two very different people both decide to leave their old
lives behind. Berney can make a grocery list fun to read, and here he has a lot
more material to work with. An outstanding book that deserved the acclaim it
received.
Inverse
Cowgirl, Alicia Roth Weigel. I
rarely feel the need to read memoirs of people less than half my age, but
Weigel’s account of growing up intersex came to my attention as part of
researching the current Nick Forte project. A frank and unapologetic look at
what life can be like for the intersex community and the problems it brings, as
well as ideas for how to avoid them in the future. A powerfully personal, yet
eminently readable book that I highly recommend for anyone who wants to learn
about this too often neglected group.
Money,
Money, Money, Ed McBain. It’s Ed McBain. What else do you need to know? This
is one of the later books, after Fat Ollie Weeks came around for comic relief.
McBain wrote 57 87th Precinct novels and they all rate at least four
stars out of five. This one has drug dealers working behind an unusual front,
counterfeiters, and a dead woman eaten by lions.
Going
Infinite: The Rise and Fall of a New Tycoon, Micheal Lewis. Lewis
happened to be working on a book about Sam Bankman-Fried when the whole FTX
operation went tits up, so he got a lot of inside scoop. I have the feeling the
publisher wanted to get this one out while SBF was still in the news, so we’re
left with no good conclusion, as the legal situations had only just begun to
play out. The least satisfying of Lewis’s books I’ve read, but the world of
crypto is so shady and built on such a sandy foundation not even he could get
me to understand it.
By
the Dawn's Early Light, Lawrence Block. A long story; not a novel, this
is an excellent episode in the Matt Scudder oeuvre. Here he gets a
casual friend out of a jam without knowing what exactly the jam is and
inadvertently causes more harm. Scudder does find a way to help even the score.
Rain
Dogs, Baron Birtcher. I’ve been
watching Birtcher on panels for years and always promise myself to read one of
his books. I finally got around to it and will definitely be back. Rain Dogs
is a remarkably complicated story that comes together without artifice or
allowing the reader to see what’s going on behind the curtain until Birtcher is
ready to show him. Trigger warning: there are a couple of gruesomely violent
scenes, but they are not gratuitous, as they provide insights into character
and future motivations..
Made
in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States,
Bill Bryson. An entertaining and informative examination of how America has
added to and changed the English language. The book covers far more than
language alone, which makes for interesting lessons in both history and
sociology. Bryson has a dry wit that makes the book a lot of fun to read.
Thursday, September 18, 2025
Bouchercon 2025
A busier than usual September has delayed my Bouchercon wrap-up. Do not let that lead you to think this year’s event was anything other than a success. For me, on multiple levels. (I’ll have more to say about the ‘multiple levels’ business in the coming weeks.)
·
I didn’t go to as many panels as I used to
·
I didn’t garner as much new information from the
panels I did go to
This is in no way a criticism of the program. I’ve been attending
conferences since 2008 and have published sixteen novels since then. I still
look forward to learning ways to make my writing better and more fun for
everyone, but much of what I hear now is, with notable exceptions, a variation
on something I already know. That’s to be expected when one gets to be my age
and has the same level of experience.
(Uncertain): Some experts will spin evidence so they’ll get
hired again. Some never even look at it.
Katherine Ramsland: Forensic meteorology is the study of how
weather affects a crime scene. (This is actually a thing.)
Jordan Harper: Writing should be hard the way playing a
sport is hard, not ‘lifting a car off of someone’ hard.
Friday, August 29, 2025
Bouchercon Advice from a Ten-Time Attendee
Readers are generally introverts. That doesn’t mean we don’t like other people, and it’s not that we don’t enjoy spending time with others who share an interest, but we’d have to leave the house to meet them and that cuts into our reading time.
While Bouchercon provides a golden opportunity to get spend
time with like-minded individuals, it can be intimidating. Over a thousand
readers and several hundred writers are a bit much for someone with little or
no experience in such things. No worries. There is no more welcoming atmosphere
than Bouchercon and I can personally attest to that.
My first Bouchercon was 2008, in Baltimore, several years
before I was published. I was standing on the walkway between hotels with Peter
Rozovsky, one of about three people I actually knew then, when he asked if I
was having a good time.
Me: Sort of.
PR: What’s wrong?
Me: I don’t really know anyone here.
PR: (Looks around) Do you know Scott Phillips?
Me: I know who he is….
PR: (Waving) Scott! Come here a second! (Scott Phillips
comes over.) Scott, this is Dana King. Dana, this is Scott Phillips. He
wrote The Ice Harvest. (Peter does not know I am head over heels
for The Ice Harvest.)
SP: (Extends hand) Hi, Dana.
(We chat for five minutes and Scott has to go to a panel.)
PR: See? Now you know Scott Phillips.
One year later. Indianapolis. I’m on the periphery of the
crowd at the bar looking for anyone I know. I see Scott with a group of people,
but I only met him for five minutes a year ago; he’s not someone I know.
Scott notices me and waves me over.
SP: Hi, Dana. We’re going to get something to eat. You want
to come?
That’s what Bouchercon is. It’s like Vegas for
introverts.
See you next week. I’ve made more than one good friend
because they read my similar posts in other years and we got together at the
conference.
I do have one caveat: My eyesight has deteriorated due to
macular degeneration in one eye since my last Boucheron. Mostly it’s a
nuisance, but a large conference exacerbates the problems. We take recognizing
faces for granted, but the level of small, specific detail that goes into such
recognition is remarkable. The problem is, picking up small details is what AMD
costs me most.
So if I know you, or you want to meet me, and I appear to be
walking right by you, it’s not because I’m an aloof asshole. I am an
aloof asshole, but I’m not blowing you off; I just don’t recognize you, and I
probably can’t read your name badge , either. Stop me and say hello. Don’t be
shy about reminding me who you are if I’m slow to do so. I’ll appreciate the
courtesy.
Friday, August 22, 2025
Underworld Available in October
The seventh Nick Forte novel, Underworld, drops on or about October 1. In this story, Forte’s ex-wife believe she’s being followed by persons unknown, including when their daughter, Caroline, is in the car. This is unacceptable.
Below is an excerpt:
We ate an early
supper to leave time for a drive to Arlington Heights for the high school
football game. Caroline would change into her marching band uniform at school and
we’d meet up after the game.
She
didn’t say much on the drive north. I got a glimpse of why when she asked if I
had a girlfriend.
“Nope.”
“How
come? You’re smart and funny.”
Apparently
I wasn’t all that good-looking. I guess two out of three ain’t bad. “You have
to go out to find a girlfriend.”
“So?”
“I
don’t go out much.”
“Why
not?”
“You
go out, you come across a lot of people you don’t know.”
“Isn’t
that the point?”
“Yeah,
but I hate people I don’t know.”
So
ended a conversation I didn’t want to have.
We
were early to the game, as usual. Diane sometimes referred to me as “pathologically punctual,” and not as a
compliment. Caroline never complained. Fourteen years in and never tired of
seeing how parts of me combined with parts of Diane to create a young woman who
fascinated me every day. When people asked what my favorite age was for
Caroline, I always said, “Now,” and meant it.
I
said hello to her friends Tyler and Joanna, reminded Caroline where I’d be
after the game, and went to find a good seat. Arlington Heights – Hersey High
School, actually – won 26 – 13 in a game that was closer than the score
indicated, thanks to the dumbest coaching decision I have ever seen in a
sporting event at any level.
Hersey
was up 20 – 13 with 56 seconds to play. The visitor – I think it was
Schaumberg, but the scoreboard said only VISITOR and I couldn’t hear the PA worth
a damn – had the ball on its own 19-yard line. A run and two passes later
brought them to fourth down and three yards to go.
They
punted. With eleven seconds left in the game. Down seven points.
I
have no idea what the coach was thinking, unless he had some secret play to
force a fumble on the return. If he did, the play needed work, as Hersey ran the
kick back for a touchdown as time expired.
I
met up with Caroline and her buds outside the band room. The plan was for me to
drive her friends home before Caroline and I made the 45-minute trek to
Bolingbrook.
Caroline
had a better idea. Even I thought so.
“Can
we get ice cream?”
We’d
made this improvisation before. “You girls know the drill,” I said to her
friends. “Send your mom or dad a text to ask, then show me they said it was
okay.”
Apparently
they have me pegged as a soft touch; the requests were already approved. Both
girls nearly broke my nose shoving cell phones in my face
Sundae
School was busy, not packed. I bought sundaes for all three girls – typical,
and a primary reason I’m so popular when it comes to giving rides – and a
milkshake for myself. I always got milkshakes when I drove, on the off chance
we’d have to leave before I was ready. It’s hell to eat a sundae and drive at
the same time.
I
took my shake far enough away for them to be sure no eavesdropping took place. Tyler’s
father got himself busted six months earlier and had yet to redeem his
reputation. I maintained a line of sight so they wouldn’t have to find me when
it was time to go.
Twenty
minutes later two boys/young men I’d noticed sitting in a far corner made a
detour on their way out to pass near my charges. No big deal. The boys looked
like high school seniors or college freshmen. For all I knew they were friends
or relatives of one of the girls.
A
couple of minutes later Tyler’s and Joanna’s body language stiffened. Caroline
was still cool, but she knew I was close and would handle anything too
uncomfortable. The other girls had no such assurance.
These
were always awkward situations. My first impulse was to go over and sort these
boys out, but the girls needed to learn how to deal with social dilemmas; my
best role was safety net. I finished my shake and was watching the situation
play out when Caroline peeked over her shoulder in my direction.
I
moved with an unhurried stride. Tossed my empty cup in a trash bin on the way
over. Took each boy by an elbow to steer them past the girls’ table and toward
the door.
This
produced the expected reaction.
“Hey!
What the fuck, man?”
“Who
the hell are you?”
I
didn’t speak until we cleared the door. Kept my voice in the register Caroline
calls menacing. “I’m conducting a survey and want to ask you a couple of
questions.”
These
were Arlington Heights toughs, which meant South Side ten-year-olds would steal
their lunch money before pantsing them. The taller one said, “You’re not going
to like the answers if you don’t turn us loose, asshole.”
“First
question: do either of you know what it’s like to eat soup through a straw
for…I don’t know. Six to eight weeks? However long it takes a broken jaw to
heal.”?”
Not
the question they’d expected. “Uh…no.”
“Second
and last question: would you like to find out?”
For
sure not what they expected. All I got were head shakes.
“Then
fuck off.”
And
off they fucked.
Saturday, August 9, 2025
Chapter 44
The seventh Nick Forte novel, Underworld, is all but complete. The only thing left to do is the proofread, which can wait until after Bouchercon and C3 next month.
Except for Chapter 44, which is breaking my balls like a
bastard.
Here’s the deal: Chapter 44 takes place right after a major
plot development. Forte needs a break, and readers probably won’t mind taking a
breath while they absorb what just happened. Forte stops by his favorite sports
bar to unwind a little with the barmaid. It’s a light, entertaining scene that lays
the groundwork for a relationship that unfolds in the next book. There’s no plot
development; the book will make sense without it.
And it’s too long. It was half again as long as it is now,
and it’s still too long. Lots of writers I respect would say to cut the
chapter. Nothing truly important happens and it will streamline the entire
book. This option is still on the table.
The thing is, the book is already just shy of 48,000 words.
It’s already as streamlined a book as I have written.
And it’s a good chapter. It’s funny, and the dynamic between
Nick and Wendy is exactly what I wanted. I’ve already killed about 33% of the
darlings in this chapter. How many more can die before the chapters no longer
worth keeping is a reasonable question.
I finished the other 63 chapters four days ago. Chapter 44 won’t
let me go. I’ll take a look today to see what else I can cut without damaging
the context of the parts I want to keep. Among the legion of benefits of not
having to deal with publishers is I can take as long as I feel I need to fix
this.
I have for years believed that if a sentence refuses to be
edited into something better, the problem may well be it’s a shitty sentence;
cut the whole thing and see if I miss it. I may apply that principle to Chapter
44 if it’s still vexing me in a few days.
Just when I think I have a book under control, I get
Roseannadanna’d.
It’s always something.
Monday, July 7, 2025
Spring's Favorite Reads
Assassins Anonymous, Rob Hart. Who would figure a twelve-step program for professional killers would make for an entertaining book? Rob Hart did, then proved it. AA is violent, funny, and thought-provoking as Mark tries to stay on the path when everyone he meets seems to want to kill him. Rarely are high-concept stories this well executed.
Real Bad, Real Soon, Eric Beetner. This worthy successor to last year’s The Last Few Miles of Road shows what happens to Carter McCoy after he establishes himself as the go-to guy for off the record justice. Beetner has a gift for lending a familiar tone to a story that’s very much different from its predecessor while remaining just as engaging. I blew through this one and am already waiting for a third helping.
Survivor's Guilt, Robyn Gigl. With more ins and outs than the stitches in a quilt, Survivor’s Guilt tells the story of a millionaire’s murder. The cops pick up a suspect, who confesses right away. Attorney Erin McCabe has to be talked into taking the case, but when she does she finds things don’t add up any better than Forrest Gump’s algebra homework. There are elements of Ross McDonald in the buried family secrets. A riveting story with a taut, exciting ending.
Once You Go This Far, Kristen Lepionka. An experienced hiker has a tragic fall. Or does she? Her daughter engages PI Roxane Weary, who ranges from western Ohio, thorough Michigan, and into Canada to unravel this increasingly complex story. Weary is a realistic PI: a little unsure, and worried she’s in over her head. Her greatest virtue is a stick-to-it nature that can work for and against her. Lepionka has a Shamus to her credit (The Stories You Tell) and this book will only fortify her reputation.
Butcher's Moon, Richard Stark. Number 16 in the Parker series has several callbacks to earlier novels, but you won’t be lost if you haven’t read them. On the other hand, it will make you want to read them. Someone stole the stash from an earlier job and Parker wants his money back. As he’s shown before, this is unacceptable, and he takes on an entire corrupt town to get what he’s owed. Compelling from Page One.
Spade & Archer, Joe Gores. I’d heard about this prequel to The Maltese Falcon for years; finally got around to reading it. The anticipation did not lead to disappointment. Gores is Hammett-like enough to be entertaining for a devotee such as myself while not letting the book become a pale copy. Three stories strung together with a common thread, Spade and Archer should be on the menu of any Hammett fan.