Spring's Favorite Reads

 As you’ll soon see, the spring that just ended was a good season for reading, at least for me. Two vacations, one of them extended, gave me more time than usual for reading. I did not waste it.

 

The Monkey’s Raincoat. Robert Crais. A lot of writers tone down the things that made them popular once they become bestsellers; I guess it’s the way of the world. Once you’re on top, the publisher wants to keep you there, which inevitably leads to writing books they hope will attract a wider audience than the core group that launched you; the core will stay, whatever you do. This is not to imply Crais has watered down his writing in recent years, but I decided to go back and read the early Elvis Cole books in order, so I got myself a copy of The Monkey’s Raincoat and had at it. It was a pleasure to be reminded of what attracted me to his writing in the first place; this is as good a first PI novel as has been written since The Big Sleep. No question I’ll stick with the plan and work through these in order now.

 

All Them Wrong Things, James D.F. Hannah. I began to include as yet unreleased ARCs in these reviews about a year ago, but this is the first time I’ve included a book that is not yet under contract. Hannah is hot right now, with awards and nominations and inclusions in annual anthologies. Best known for his Henry Malone PI stories, All Them Wrong Things  is a departure for Hannah, the story of a decent man caught up in small town corruption and a brother who is an asshole for the ages. All the action and great dialog you’d expect from a Malone book is here, with a story sensibility more in the direction of Elmore Leonard or S.A. Cosby. Let’s hope this one finds a home quickly.

 

Joey Piss Pot, Charlie Stella. (I read an ARC; the book drops in July.) No one since George V. Higgins has captured the sense and attitudes of organized crime better than Stella, and even though it’s been a while since he wrote in this genre, Joey Piss Pot shows the author hasn’t lost an inch off his fastball. The book abounds with intersecting plot lines, characters who aren’t as smart as they think they are – or need to be – and dialog that reads like you’re at the next table in the bar eavesdropping. Stella’s fans will be delighted, and Joey Piss Pot should also bring him some new ones.

 

The Outfit, Richard Stark. The fourth Stark/Parker book I’ve read and, for my money, the best of the four. Stark spends more time in other people’s heads than usual here, and the effect is engrossing, as he takes events tangential to the main plot and spends entire chapters on them without making you wonder when he’s going to get back to what the book is ostensibly about; that’s a gift. Stark is on my list of writers I’ll make a point to read at least once a year and I see no reason why he shouldn’t stay there.

 

The Hot Kid, Elmore Leonard. This is a book that holds special significance for me. It came out in 2005, when I was not only not published, I wasn’t even what could be called a member of the writing community, more like a reader with delusions of writing adequacy. I won a contest with HarperCollins for an ARC of The Hot Kid so long as I wrote a review they could use. I used what I wrote for them as my audition to be a reviewer for the New Mystery Reader website. NMR editor Stephanie Padilla liked it, started assigning books to me, and gave me my first look inside. This exposed me to a lot of books and authors I would not otherwise have discovered, and interviews with several of them – notably Ken Bruen, Declan Hughes, and the aforementioned Charlie Stella – brought me inside the community; the interview with Stella led almost directly to my first contract. It’s been almost twenty years since I read Carlos Webster’s exploits, so I decided to see how well the book held up. The answer is, very. It rambles a little, but the action and dialog are all top-notch Leonard and the book is as much fun to read as anything he wrote, right up there with Get Shorty.

 

Killer’s Choice, Ed McBain. There isn’t much to recommend this 87^th Precinct novel over any of the others. There’s also nothing that makes it not at least as good as most. In short, it’s a solid McBain Eight-Seven story, which means it’s outstanding.

 

Resurrection Walk, Michael Connelly. I was off Connelly for several years, mostly because his writing doesn’t have the kind of voice and style I like as much as do some others. I picked this up on an impulse because it had both Mickey Haller and harry Bosch, and now I’m back on board. For whatever reason, I picked up on Connelly’s journalistic voice better here than before. Couple that with an exceptional and well-crafted story and he’s now on my list of authors to read at least once a year. I’ll not say more about Resurrection Walk lest I spoil something. Just go and read it.

 

The Last Few Miles of Road, Eric Beetner. Beetner is an underappreciated gem. Not by other writers, where his reputation was solidified years ago; the general public should be more aware of him, and would be if the big houses weren’t so timid. There are more plot twists here than in any few miles of road. They’re all surprises, and all are prepared so your typical reaction will be “Is should have seen this coming,” even though you didn’t. Much as I like to read for style, Beetner gift for keeping out of the way of the story and characters is so well developed, and works so well, it’s something young writers – and writing teachers – would do well to at least be aware of.