November's Best Reads

Lots of good stuff read since last time, and more news on the way, but work still needs to be done. So, without further ad, my favorite November reads:

Every Bitter Thing, Leighton Gage. Leighton Gage’ death a couple of years ago was a great loss. His series featuring Chief Inspector Mario Silva of the Brazilian federal police has many of the best elements of Ed McBain’s 87^th Precinct, writ large across a nation. The rapport—not always without edge—between his cadre of cops is spot on, and the political reactions to the cases ring true. This is the first in the too-short series I’m re-reading from the start. After refreshing my memory here, I can’t wait to get to the next. If you haven’t read any of these books, you’re missing out. First rate stuff, right down the line.

The Drop, Dennis Lehane. Read this in two days during free time at NoirCon, which gives you an idea of how I blew through it. True, it’s not a long book, but it’s damn near perfect. Lehane is a master at making narrative flow like dialog, while writing dialog George V. Higgins would be proud of. Appropriately funny in spots, dark in spots, and with a twist that made me want to see the movie even more. Highest marks.

Cottonwood, Scott Phillips. Phillips never disappoints. Asking which of his books is my favorite will return a different answer, depending on whether I’ve most recently read: The Ice Harvest, The Walkaway, or Cottonwood. Right now it’s Cottonwood. I toy with the idea of writing a Western someday. If I do, this is exactly the tone I want to take. Scott can start lining up his legal team now. (The book appears to be out of print. Amazon has several links. The one provided is not a recommendation, just the first one listed.)

Queenpin, Megan Abbott. Great period read. It’s easy to see how this put her on the map. Her females are as tough as any man without being caricatures and their predicaments are realistic, as are the resolutions. Reminded me of The Grifters in the mentor-protégé relationship, though is derivative in no way. Sets up well for a sequel, if she ever chooses to. The period patter was a bit much, at times.

Black Rock, John McFetridge. I read a pre-release e-book and had trouble getting it onto my Kindle; the formatting didn’t come out right. I read it again in paper to have a little more of a pure reading experience and liked it even more. Kindles are great, but they can get between the author and reader in ways books do not, and this is a book you want nothing to be in the way of. (That’s called license, when a writer makes up grammar on the fly like I just did. Look it up.) McFetridge never received the public acclaim his Toronto series deserved. Let’s hope Constable Eddie Dougherty does, and that he doesn’t have to get old and cranky to do so.

Sucker Punch, Ray Banks. Working my way through the entire Cal Innes series, happened to read this one on the plane to Bouchercon, completely unaware Innes spends most of this story in LA making a mess of chaperoning a young boxer. Banks is as pitch-perfect a writer as I can name. Uses no more words than necessary, but no fewer, and exactly the right ones. His plots are as complex as they need to be, and his characters are alive the instant you first meet them. Grade A stuff.

Kill Clock, Allan Guthrie. An author/agent/editor/publisher polymath of a writer, Guthrie knows how to leverage the flexibility available in e-books to write stories only as long as they need to be. Pearce is the perfect anti-hero here, not looking for shit, but not going to put up with any, either. When he finds himself in a bad situation he had nothing to do with—and wants nothing to do with even more—he’s more than capable of bringing it to a head on his own. Guthrie doesn’t back away from his ending, which some won’t like, but is exactly what the story needed. The wry little coda at the end is a nice touch.

Breaking Point, Gerard Brennan. Another novella. Brennan, along with Guthrie and Banks, may have the best understanding of the benefits of the form. A sequel to The Point, Breaking Point picks up the story with some scores settled, but some still outstanding. Brian Morgan only wanted to buy some grass, but his dealer’s unrealistic ambitions suck him in a classic “wrong place/wrong time” scenario. Brennan isn’t as dark or hard edged as Guthrie, but his anti-hero is someone you can root for, while Kill Clock’s Pearce is someone who causes you to fear for the other guys.

TheLincoln Lawyer, Michael Connelly. I read for style as much as for anything else. This is why best-sellers rarely appeal to me: too bland. I live for books where I can read a particularly nice bit to The Beloved Spouse, or pause and sit back with the ultimate compliment: I wish I’d written that. Connelly rarely does that, so it’s a tribute to how well his plots and characters are drawn that his books envelope me as they do. His research is so well done, I use his books as research for my own. And I can’t put them down. I didn’t think I’d like the premise for The Lincoln Lawyer, but found it in a discount bin for six bucks. Once I picked it up, I couldn’t put it down.

Twenty Questions With Gerard Brennan

Gerard Brennan came to my attention through his essay, “The Truth Commissioners” in Declan Burke’s comprehensive examination of Irish crime fiction, Down These Green Streets. His contribution to the Fight Card series (Welcome to the Octagon) hooked me on his fiction, and The Point reeled me him. His sequel to The Point—Breaking Point—has recently been released, and Gerard was kind enough to take a break from his PhD studies to play Twenty Questions.

One Bite at a Time: Tell us about Breaking Point.

Gerard Brennan: I like to think of it as belonging to the same sub-genre as the movie Pineapple Express and other slacker-type flicks and TV shows. Notice I didn't mention books? Yeah, me too. Because I can't think of a novel or novella that attempts the same. Could well be down to a deficit in my reading, though.

OBAAT: Where did you get this idea, and what made it worth developing for you? (Notice I didn’t ask “Where do you get your ideas?” I was careful to ask where you got this idea.)

GB: I wanted to revisit the characters from The Point. I'd spent a hell of a lot of time with them as I honed my craft. The original version of The Point was the first big project I completed, years and years ago. It was a novel attempt, then, rather than a novella. But I wasn't happy with it and left it alone until I'd written two actual novels. Then I was able to go back and spot the problems. About 25K words worth of problems.

OBAAT: How long did it take to write Breaking Point, start to finish?

GB: I've learned to love outlining and I wrote an outline for this novella two years ago. Then I put it to one side as other writing projects came along. When I finally got around to writing it again I liked the new characters but hated the plot I'd laid out for them. So I reworked about 80% of the story and started again. The outline took a day to fix (mostly on the bus journey to and from my then full-time job), the writing took a month.

OBAAT: What’s the back story on the main character or characters?

GB: I could tell you that, or I could encourage you to download the Kindle version of The Point for free. Go on... (Editor’s Note: Really, go ahead. We’ll wait. We’re here today because of how much I liked The Point, and it’s a quick read.)

OBAAT: In what time and place is Breaking Point set? How important is the setting to the book as a whole?

GB: It's set today, in and around the small village I've lived in for the last nine years. Until now I've kept my writing off my own doorstep by about 30 miles (I'd mostly been writing about Belfast and/or Warrenpoint after I'd moving away). I don't know how important the exact setting will be to most readers, but for me it certainly informed some character motivations. And it made me feel a little uncomfortable in parts. That's probably a good thing for a writer.

OBAAT: How did Breaking Point come to be published?

GB: The Point originally saw a small paperback release in 2011. Unfortunately, that publisher folded. Fortunately, I'd hooked up with Blasted Heath who published my novels, Wee Rockets and Fireproof as ebooks after The Point came out. They'd done such a great job finding me an audience that I was delighted when they agreed to reissue The Point last year. When I pitched The Point to them, I also pitched Breaking Point and a third part to the series.

OBAAT: What kinds of stories do you like to read? Who are your favorite authors, in or out of that area?

GB: I read everything. Books, magazines, food labels. But to narrow it down, I dip into each genre to lesser and greater extents. Right now, crime fiction is the top of the greater extent table. And Northern Irish crime fiction is a particular passion as my blog, Crime Scene NI, would suggest. I tend to gravitate towards books that build believable (and sometimes likeable) bad guys. Something like a certain Dana King manages in Grind Joint. (Editor blushes, draws circle in dirt with toe.)

OBAAT: Who are your greatest influences?

GB: Ken Bruen, Colin Bateman and Eoin McNamee. Three very different writers, and each taught me something different but equally profound. There are many other influences, but those are the first three I think of every time.

OBAAT: Do you outline or fly by the seat of you pants? Do you even wear pants when you write?

GB: I used to fly by the seat of my pants until I figured out that it took me a lot longer to take off that way. Like a trip to the airport, if I don't prepare and convince myself I've covered all angles I end up acting too antsy to even gain permission to board the plane. I think this analogy has gone far enough. Pulling out of the tailspin now. I mean now.

I tried writing in my pyjamas the other day (can honestly say I've never attempted to write pantless). I was feeling sorry for myself after my sons decided to keep me awake for a few extra hours the night before. But then I felt like I hadn't started my day, and as a result, my brain refused to cooperate.

OBAAT: Give us an idea of your process. Do you edit as you go? Throw anything into a first draft knowing the hard work is in the revisions? Something in between?

GB: Editing is highly important, but my writing style allows for it to be a shorter process than most, I suspect. I don't really subscribe to the “shitty first draft” theory. That doesn't mean my drafts don't stink from time to time. I just don't assume it will until I can smell it. So I guess somewhere in between. I edit as I go, but can be ruthless with the delete key when I need to be.

OBAAT: If you could give a novice writer a single piece of advice, what would it be?

GB: Read.

OBAAT: Favorite activity when you’re not reading or writing.

GB: Being the best family guy I can be. That might include blowing off steam at the gym quite regularly, or in a pub much less regularly. When I'm with my wife and kids I want to be there. That means taking a little time for myself as well, outside of writing or studying.

OBAAT: Which do you take to bed at night, the money earned or the good review?

GB: Money and reviews are still a little low on the ground. I'm not complaining. I realise I'm lucky to have what I have already, but if either were the ultimate reward, I'd be very frustrated. I'm happier to go to bed knowing that I did everything I could to either improve my writing or move the story forward in whatever project I'm currently obsessed with.

OBAAT: Would you stop writing if someone paid you enough money so you’d never have to work again, on the condition you could also never write again?

GB: That's a tough one to answer. If I only had myself to look after, I'd tell the devil to feck off (who else would offer such a shitty deal?). But with a family... I'd have to give it some thought. My soul is less important to me than theirs are. That's kind of an easy claim for an agnostic to make, though, isn't it?

OBAAT: If you were just starting out, which would you prefer: 1. Form your own indie publishing house and put your work out in paper and e-book yourself? 2. Go with a small or medium traditional house that offers very little or no advance, a royalty that is only a fraction of what you'd get on your own, and also makes no promise of any type of publicity push, keeping in mind that you also will lose the publishing rights for a period, sometimes indefinitely? 3. Go with a Big Six or legacy publisher that offers a larger advance, legitimate review possibilities, entrance to industry literary awards, and exposure on the shelves of brick and mortar stores. Pick one and say why.

GB: Number 3, of course. That's the only option where you only have to worry about the writing. Everything else is taken care of for you. With less distractions, I imagine my productivity would increase (the pyjama incident reminded me that I don't like to sit on my ass all day unless it's to do something that I think is useful). But I'll take what I can get, which is why I'm happy to work at a level somewhere between number 1 and number 2. At least, I must be happy, because I'm still doing it.

OBAAT: Beer, mixed drinks, or hard liquor?

GB: Hard liquor. In moderation, it's better for my health.

OBAAT: Baseball or football?

GB: Football if I'm limited to those two choices (Premiership or NFL). MMA if I want to spend less time looking at my phone.

OBAAT: What question have you always wanted an interviewer to ask, but they never do?

GB: Would you like me to introduce you to my agent? They can get you “a Big Six or legacy publisher that offers a larger advance, legitimate review possibilities, entrance to industry literary awards, and exposure on the shelves of brick and mortar stores.”

OBAAT: What’s the answer?

GB: Yes, please.

OBAAT: What are you working on now?

GB: A PhD in creative writing that includes working on a novel and a lot of reading for a related critical piece. I'm also working on a police procedural when I catch myself procrastinating on the PhD, or when I need a holiday from it (that one's a marathon, not a sprint). And I'm thinking about outlines for future novellas. Possibly a play. Or two.

I'm freaking out a bit now.

Check out Gerard’s excellent blog, Crime Scene NI, as well as his other novel, Wee Rockets.

January’s Top Reads

January was a real good month for reading. Let’s get to it.

The Glass Key, Dashiell Hammett. Said by many to be Hammett’s greatest, and I see why. Loyalty, betrayal, politics, and sex interwoven in a story dated only by the colloquialisms. I think I still prefer The Maltese Falcon, but that may well be due to my greater familiarity. This will be re-read.

The Point, Gerard Brennan. A nice, vicious little noir tale of two brothers on the wrong path. One sees where it leads and wants to get off. The other can’t see that far ahead and wants company for his ride. Things go as wrong as you’d expect, but not at all in the manner you expected. Brennan nails the pace and language, and has me looking forward to the sequel. (The Point is free for the time being, so get your ass to Amazon before they change their minds.)

Hurt Machine, Reed Farrel Coleman. Moe Prager nears the end of his run, trying to decide how to tell the rest of the world about his cancer with his daughter’s wedding on the horizon and the death of his former lover’s sister to investigate. A perfect set-up for Prager to look back while trying to move forward, and the case’s complexities keep him from any easy decisions about the it, or his personal life. Prager is as human as any contemporary PI, and this is a great vehicle for him.

The Bitch, Les Edgerton. Discussed in detail a couple of weeks ago, a classic noir tale of how a bad decision made with good intentions can lead to situations with only bad choices.

Runaway Town, Jay Stringer. I wrote in depth on this last week. Social awareness and questions of loyalty, betrayal, family, and attraction work together at a level that would do Richard Price proud.

The Black Dahlia, James Ellroy. I started the Underworld USA trilogy in the middle, with The Cold Six Thousand. Big mistake. (Really, folks. Don’t do that. Start at the beginning.) I made a point of starting the LA Quartet at the outset. I’ve heard this may be the weakest book of the four; if that’s true, I can’t wait to get to the rest. Ellroy hadn’t developed his “tabloid language” yet, but primordial traces of it are here. The ending goes on a bit too long, but you’re aware you’re in the midst of something special from the beginning. Living proof that exposition can delay the start of the actual story as long as the author wants, so long as it’s engrossing in its own right.

I also read about twenty pages of one drop-dead stinking you gotta be kidding me piece of shit, but, as you all know, I believe if you can’t say something nice don’t say anything, so

Coming Up For Air

With an e-book recently released and a dead tree scroll due out in a few months, promotion has been on my mind. Unfortunately, it has been almost exclusively self-promotion, which always makes me feel a little like a politician, which is to say, unclean. I spend a lot more time reading other people’s stuff than writing my own—with good reason—so it’s time to give credit where it’s due.

Patti Abbott is hard to keep up with because she’s everywhere. Her most recent efforts include, “Floes the Ice” in Shotgun Honey, as well as “Won’t You Pardon Me?” in Plots With Guns. Her novel in stories, Home Invasion, currently has a five-star rating and is available for Kindle for $0.99. Her blog, Pattinase, covers topics from forgotten books to good things to say about Detroit to music to television, films, and whatever else comes to mind. I stop by several times a day.

Paul Brazill never sleeps. In addition to posting daily on his fine blog, You Would Say That, Wouldn’t You? he released two books in July, which is allegedly a vacation month. A Knife and a Quill says of Gumshoe, “The adventures of this PI feel like they rolled out of a Tom Waits song.” Of his newest, Guns of Brixton, Out Of the Gutter Online says, “Brazill has a knack for larger-than-life characters, tar-black humor, and sharp plots, and Guns of Brixton offers a great deal of all that.” McVoices has nominated Death on a Hot Afternoon as Alternative Crime Book of the Year.

Gerard Brennan is about as busy as Patti and Paul. (I’m sensing a pattern here and feeling like a bit of a piker as I do so.) He has a couple of new novellas vying for public attention. I read Welcome to the Octagon yesterday and kept thinking of what a good movie this story of a MMA fighter and single father would make, partly because it has a perfect plot for a movie, and for how well the descriptions of the fights put me on the inside. His newest, Wee Danny, is picking up good reviews faster than I can find links for them all. Save yourself some trouble and just get a copy.

Jochem van der Steen has a different perspective on private investigators. Noah Milano is the scion of a Mafia family who tries to make amends by becoming a straight PI, which isn’t always as easy as Noah would like it to be. Primarily a series of “novelettes,” Jochem’s treatment of what many would call a uniquely American genre proves those who would say that are nuts. I read and enjoyed Scoundrel and Redemption a lot; Noah’s newest is the novella, Guilt. Anyone wishing to keep up with what’s going on in Pi fiction should take a look at Jochem’s blog, Sons of Spade.

Steve Weddle is co-creator of Needle Magazine, as well as my favorite writing blog, Do Some Damage. Steve has been posting kick-ass short fiction all over the place for quite a while, and his first novel, Country Hardball is available for pre-order. There will be more on this one as the date approaches.

Jim Winter writes the Nick Kepler series of detective stories, set in Cleveland. (And I still read them; that’s how good they are.) His collection of short stories, The Compleat Kepler, does a superb job of universe building, showing Kepler in multiple situations. His newest novel, Bad Religion, starts out as the story of a shady preacher, but drags Kepler into a whole lot more.

There are others to catch up with; stay tuned.