WILD THING, Josh Bazell’s sequel to the breakout hit BEAT THE REAPER is in bookstores now. Check out reviews from The Daily Beast, which proclaims the book “comes with the funniest footnotes and appendix (no kidding) ever written,” the National Post, which calls the book “a welcome return…with a grim and funny plot filled with a whole mess o’ violence, double-crossings, drug abuse, flamboyant lies and sexual tension.” Bazell also received a rave review in The Washington Post, which says: “Bazell’s mix of violent lunacy and social commentary should appeal to fans of Carl Hiassen…WILD THING doesn’t so much end as explode.” And don’t miss the blog reviews from the likes of BookHounds, Rhapsody in Books, The Review Broads, The IE Mommy, and more.
As for George Pelecanos’s WHAT IT WAS, The Washington Times ran a wonderful feature on Pelecanos’ career and his title of “DC’s Own.” The Philadelphia Inquirer runs a rave review for the novel, writing that “Be warned! Don’t start at 10pm if you want to get any sleep…The writing is noir: spark, dark, and evocative of time and place…more than marvelous.”
Don Mann, author of INSIDE SEAL TEAM SIX and Mulholland Books’ forthcoming HUNT THE WOLF, was recently quoted in Newsweek’s front page story on the Navy SEALs, on the importance of training for the operators that have impressed President Obama with their precision and professionalism.
The TV spot for Max Payne 3, presented by our friends at Rockstar Games, has been running prominently on different channels in the past week. Check it out below:
One of the pleasures of writing and reading fiction – and thrillers lend themselves to this rather well – is the weaving of fact and fiction. And a fact I happily weaved into the fictional world of Shake Offwas that one of the few American fiction writers you could buy in English in the 1980s Soviet Union was Dashiell Hammett. This is not integral to the plot of the book, nor is it a particularly startling revelation, but it illustrates a mindset: the Soviets allowed Hammett to be sold in a Moscow bookshop because he was a communist (the Hollywood chapter of the Communist Party was founded in his house), although his flaky allegiance to the party might not have impressed them.
Another, perhaps less well-known fact, was that at the same time, although you could not buy John Le Carré novels in a Moscow bookshop, they were required reading by KGB trainees to get an insight into British Intelligence and its workings. I have a pleasing image of a Russian translator working away on his secret Le Carré translations. It must have been a coveted job: enjoying banned fiction under the legitimate cover of doing it for the good of the party.
Back to Hammett, though, and why I’m pleased to get a reference to a writer of hard-boiled detective fiction into a spy novel. When I left Beirut to return to London in early 1983 I had trouble adjusting to ‘normal’ life, with its distinct lack of air-raids, roadblocks and – Northern Ireland aside – sectarian killing. The world I had returned to was, to be honest, boring compared to the one I had left. It did, on the other hand, put the latter into unflattering perspective. To escape this cognitive dissonance I took refuge in books. I devoured everything I came across, high-brow, low-brow, I didn’t really care, as long as it was well and unpretentiously written. If it spoke to me in some way then I read it. After ploughing through some Russians (Dostoyevsky yes, Tolstoy no) I turned to the Americans, happening upon a rich vein of crime fiction. I tapped it relentlessly. Starting with Raymond Chandler, I moved to Hammett, Jim Thompson and Ross Macdonald – and more recently to George Pelecanos, Lawrence Block, James Ellroy and Elmore Leonard. Perhaps what attracted me to these stories, apart from the pure escapism, was the inherent struggle to right wrongs. A struggle of flawed (read human) characters amongst which the (often but not always) lone detective (i.e. the reader) attempts to mete out some sort of rough justice – a justice frequently absent in real life. I don’t want to overdo the analysis, but the attraction for me then was clear, and it is no exaggeration to say that these books helped me through a difficult time of adjustment. It is also fair to say that a lot of this early reading rubbed off in terms of developing a no-nonsense writing style. Continue reading “Fact, Meet Fiction: On the Writing of Shake Off”→
When the wonderful folks here at Mulholland asked me if I would contribute a small post to their website, I found myself filled with a sense of pride at being asked and of panic at having to create the content.
It was similar to the panic I suffer from on a weekly basis at (excuse the plug) the group blog, Do Some Damage (www.dosomedamage.com), where seven hardy crime-writing souls — and yours truly — post daily on whatever strikes their fancy. But here, at the birth of a great-looking imprint like Mulholland, I figured I wanted to say something about reading and writing and what they mean to me.
But at first, I couldn’t figure it.
Couldn’t get a handle on what I wanted to say.
What is important to me about this business?
What is it that makes me stick things out as a writer (and a bookseller — my day job is working for a national chain here in the UK), despite all the doom and gloom that is being broadcast about the industry from so many quarters?
And then I realized:
It’s all about the readers.
All writers — all truly dedicated writers — have to start out as readers. The only way you can really understand this gig is if you know who you are writing for. And you can’t just understand a reader as some abstract thing. You have to be able to know them inside and out, understand that every reader is unique, that every readers loves and loathes literature in equal measure, because it’s all about that fragile connection that occurs between the words on the page and what happens in your mind.
Readers are who we are all writing for. Not other writers. But readers. Those who devour our words, who are thrilled, intrigued, and stimulated by these seemingly random collections of lines and squiggles. Because that’s what it’s all about.