The Mach 5 Lives!

I grew up in the 1970s, and back then it was easy to list the three coolest people in the universe: Spider-Man, Ultraman, and Speed Racer. I wanted to be all three. You could often find me climbing the staircase in my parents' house, pretending I was Peter Parker on my way to kick the living shit out of Electro or Mysterio. I used to balance on the edge of our living room couch to pretend that I was flying across the Tokyo skies like Ultraman. And quite often I'd arrange cardboard boxes and a weird assortment of toys to recreate Speed Racer's famous Mach 5.

Today shooting began on a live action version of Speed Racer, which will be directed by the Wachowski Brothers. I'm already itching to see it. Yes, Hollywood routinely fucks up our dreams, but c'mon. Look at that hunk of white streamlined sweetness (from USA Today). They fuckin' nailed the Mach 5. This is exactly what I imagined my cardboard boxes and weird assortment of toys looked like when I was six years old.

Raimi's done Spidey. The Wachowskis (Polish brothers in arms) are doin' Speed. All that's left is Ultraman, which will be difficult. I mean, how do you reinvent something as perfect as this:

Mail Today...

... was pretty fucking awesome. St. Martin's sent me two packages: one contained a handful of Severance Package ARCs. This will be my tenth book (six nonfiction titles and three novels precede it), but I'm telling you, the thrill just doesn't go away. I opened the package. I held the ARC up to the light. I inhaled that glorious fresh paper smell. I caressed the spine. I checked the spine. (Yes, all of my consonants were there.) I thumbed through the ARC, pretending I was encountering it for the first time. It was pretty friggin' glorious. All of it. You can't tell from the cover, but the St. Martin's art department really went wild with this one: the interior design is nothing short of spectacular. Later in the week I'll throw up a sample page or two, and you'll see what I mean. The only downside is that Severance Package is due to appear in bookstores until November; I wish it were out now.

Which brings me to my second package: my BookExpo America badge. If you happen to be attending BEA this weekend, be sure to stop by the Mystery Writers of America booth (#2750) at 10:30 a.m., where I'll be signing and giving away Severance ARCs to the first two dozen people who show up. Joining me will be Megan Abbott, who will have a pile of Queenpins to share. Afterwards, we're going to head over to the Hard Case Crime booth to check out the models. Ahem.

Three Looks at Three Books

I try to avoid linking to reviews, because I don't want every post to scream ME ME ME. However, when three short reviews pop up that form a nice thematic unit... hell, how can I resist?

Over at Bookgasm, Rod Lott says some really, really kind things about The Wheelman. Mr. Lott will be receiving advance copies of my books for the rest of his natural life.

Meanwhile, at Blogcritics Magazine, Mel Odom reports on his night with The Blonde. I will keep sending women to Mr. Odom.

And finally: I send John Kenyon at Things I'd Rather Be Doing a pink slip, and he likes it! I wil continue to fire Mr. Kenyon on a regular basis.

But a Mere Shadow

If I ever start to bellyache about writing one or two novels a year, you have my permission to clock me upside the head with a sturdy two-by-four. I've been reading Don Hutchison's The Great Pulp Heroes, and in the chapter about the Shadow, Hutchison reveals the work schedule of Walter Gibson (a.k.a. Maxwell Grant):

Within months The Shadow went from quarterly to monthly, and within a year or two it was selling more than 300,000 copies per issue. Gibson signed yet another contract. The magazine would appear twice a month; he was to produce twenty-four adventures per year, one 60,000-word novel every two weeks for as long as the popularity of the Shadow continues. That figure totaled more than 1,440,000 words per year.

Um... yeah. The Wheelman? It was barely 53,000 words, not even qualifying for pulp magazine length. And that took me about a year, on and off, to finish. I'm such a pulp wuss.

Drink Beer with Swierczy!

Tonight! I'll be at the Grey Lodge Pub, only the best damn bar in Northeast Philly, for Authors A'Plenty 5 along with forensic thriller writer D.H. Dublin (Jonathan McGoran to his pals) and comic book artist Rob Reilly. Beer, books and good conversation will be on hand. Especially after I've had a few beers.

Also on hand: the Bride, making a rare public appearance. (For those of you who think she does not exist, now's your chance to meet the beautiful redhead I hired to play the part of... er, I mean, your chance to meet my wife.) And Dave White, who says he just loves "the illadelph."

And in the Department of Strange Coincidences: At the same time the Grey Lodge is rockin' "Authors A'Plenty," they'll also be hosting the victory party of Al Taubenberger, the Republican candidate for mayor. What makes this is a coincidence is that he's the cover boy in the latest City Paper. Hope he liked the piece (which is the cover debut of new CP staff writer Tom Namako). If not, well, that's why God invented beer.

Want to See a Cartoon Version of Me?

Then check out my editor's letter this week. Especially if you write/draw comics. (I think I'm most accurately rendered in the final panel.)

I Promise, No "Dick in a Box" Jokes

Though it is Dick in a book. The Library of America, which has previously waved its magic wand over the heads of Chandler, Hammett, Jim Thompson, Horace McCoy, David Goodis, Patricia Highsmith and Charles Willeford—some of my favorite dead writers—now does the same for Philip K. Dick. Guest editor Jonathan Lethem has gathered four of Dick's best 1960s-era novels (including my personal, and John Lennon's, favorite: The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldrich) in one snappy little hardcover volume. Sure, the pages are onion-skin-thin, but that's what makes it all seem so fancy. While I've read all four of the books (I went through a serious Dick phase back in the mid to late 1990s), this attractive new edition gives me an excuse to spin through them all again. And of course, doing this will no doubt send me back for another spin through Lawrence Sutin's excellent Dick biography, Divinie Invasions. You want to see a right go through hell and back (and along the way, meet God)? Read this bio.

Coward With a Spine

If you're a regular at Secret Dead Blog, you might have found your way here because you read my heist novel, The Wheelman. And if you read that, it's a safe bet you probably dig tough guy heist novels in general, like Richard Stark's Parker series, Dan Simmons' Joe Kurtz thrillers, Max Allan Collins' Nolan paperbacks, and Dan J. Marlowe's one-two punch of early Earl Drake (specifically, The Name of the Game is Death and One Endless Hour). If this is the case, then boy, do I have something special to recommend to you.

Ed Bruabaker, who's most famous right now for killing off Captain America (that's right kids; Mr. Brubaker doesn't fuck around), has been writing a brilliant monthly crime comic called Criminal, and the first story arc, "Coward," is just out in trade paperback. (The artist is the always-superb Sean Phillips, who also draws the wildly-successful Marvel Zombies.) Leo's a stone cold pro who's got his eye on a sweet haul from police evidence... but of course, things go tits up pretty quickly, as is tradition in heist stories. And that's pretty much the only traditional thing about this story, because Brubaker does something really cool with Leo: he hardwires him with a set of emotions and fears that change everything. This is no stoic Parker, who just wants his fucking money. Listen to Leo in issue #1:

Sometimes I tell people about the rules and they ask what I'm so scared of...

And I tell them.

I'm scared of ending up like my fther.

Scared of dying where I most likely belong... in prison.

But the way I see it... if you aren't scared, in our line of work, then you just aren't thinking.

I first read Brubaker thanks to David Hale Smith, who more or less pushed a copy of Scene of the Crime: A Little Piece of Goodnight in my hands back in 2000. It was a truly brilliant—and modern—take on a Ross Macdonald private eye story, and over the years I find myself buying copies over and over again, because I keep lending them out to friends who claim they don't dig comics.

The one downside to the collected trade edition is that it doesn't have all of the cool extras from the individual issues, such as appreciations of classic crime flicks by various guest contributors, such as Patton Oswalt, Charlie Huston, Warren Ellis, Greg Rucka and Charles Ardai. But that's okay. Read the collected edition, then track down the individual issues. Trust me; they're worth the manhunt.

Sunday Night News Report

With real datelines and everything! Like, from around the country!

PHILADELPHIA, PA—The City of Brotherly Love is set to embrace some deep darkness when "NoirCon" kicks off 11 months from now. Brought to you by the same people who served up this year's boffo "GoodisCon," this weekend of words n' woe is rumored to be honoring hardboiled/noir publishing legend Dennis McMillan, as well as Ken Bruen, our noir brother from another (Irish) mother. Full details can be found at the official "NoirCon" website. Dig that crazy smoldering cigarette!

BATON ROGUE, LA—He's back! Fresh off a smash performance of his Shotgun Opera, here comes perennial primate protagonist (he's no lemur lover, folks) Victor Gischler with news of a hot new book deal. Look for Go Go Girls of the Apocalypse to wipe the competition off the face of the earth next summer!

NEW YORK, NY—The Big Apple won't be the same after Swierczy takes a slice out of it! Word has it that a limited number of advance reading copies of his latest, Severance Package, will be available at BookExpo America (BEA to you nutty insider publishing types) on June 2nd. Want to snag a blood-soaked, autographed copy? Stop by the Mystery Writers of America booth (#2750, natch) at 10:30 a.m. on Saturday and Swierczy will hook you up! (While supplies last.)

Holy shit is it hard to keep that level of cheese up. That's all for now.

More Elmore

As promised, my complete Q&A; with Elmore Leonard is up at www.citypaper.net. Hope you enjoy it. Leonard's voice is interesting; he speaks very slowly and carefully, and has a tiny bit of that Jimmy Stewart vibe to it. Not at all what I was expecting. Tomorrow, this guy and I will be headed to the central branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia to catch his reading/discussion for Up in Honey's Room.

Up in Elmore's Room

Tuesday brings Elmore Leonard's 41st novel, Up in Honey's Room, which is final installment of a loose trilogy that began with The Hot Kid. (The middle part was Leonard's New York Times serial, Comfort to the Enemy.) Leonard's hitting the Free Library Philly this Thursday, and I was lucky enough to score a 30-minute phone interview with him this past Friday. The complete Q&A; will appear at www.citypaper.net this Wednesday evening (or whenever the new issue is uploaded), but here's a little sneak preview for you. Leonard told me that his plots always come out of his characters, and I asked if he ever had an end point in mind. His response:

No, I’m always making it up as I go along. The first 100 pages seem to work, because I’m introducing characters, and we find out what their angle is. But then from 100—and I always think of it that way, in three parts—but from 100 to 200 is when I have to do a little plotting. And I don’t want the plot to be obvious. I want the reader to wonder what’s going to happen and be surprised at what develops. Because now in that second act some of the secondary characters will get into action. And then, of course, there's the third act. In the past my manuscripts all run around 350-360 pages. So once I approach page 300, I have to start thinking of the ending. And there are always several different ways you can end it. I choose one that I like and just go for it.

Funnybooks 4 Free

Fanboy geeks of the world unite! It's Brian Hickey's favorite holiday: Free Comic Book Day. This means you can stop into your friendly neighborhood comic shop and pick up a bunch of free comics from publishers both great and small.

Even better, Free Comic Book Day happens to coincide with Cinco de Mayo, which means you can peruse your stack of free comics while under the influence of tequila.

Pulp For Lunch

Today, during lunch, I did a little browsing at the Borders at Broad and Chestnut. (Don't look at me that way. I support all bookstores, chain and indie. Plus, this Borders had The Blonde face-out on a special shelf for quite a long time.) Anyway, I picked up three books. (At this point, the Bride is probably reading this with her eyebrows raised, muttering, Oh you did, did you. To which I respond, after taking a moment to think about how breathtakingly radiant she looked this morning: But I had a coupon. Like, a 30% off coupon. Aren't you always encouraging me to use coupons?) One was a Dean Koontz reprint of Darkfall (I love the mini-essays at the back of his new editions; I'm telling you, I'm all about the extras). But the other two were huge helpings of glorious, lurid pulp.

First: a horror anthology called Summer Chills: Tales of Vacation Horror (edited by Stephen Jones; Carroll & Graf) which features a dead hand sticking out of the sand, hoisting a cocktail complete with umbrella and disembodied eyeball. Nearby, a little crab raises a claw as if to say, What the fuck, dude? It's incredibly cheesy, and I absolutely love it. Inside are stories by Clive Barker, Michael Marshall Smith, Harlan Ellison and Dennis Etchison, along with a host of other horror tales set in hot and/or exotic locales. Which is great. But I was already sold when I saw the floating eyeball.

And then I picked up a Warren Murphy/Richard Sapir omnibus of three Destroyer novels, which I first read about over at Lee Goldberg's blog. I'm new to the Destroyer series, though I'm slowly becoming a real fan of paperback men's action series. (Blame Bill Crider.) And this omnibus, The Best of the Destroyer (Forge Books) features three novels from the early 1970s, presumably that the prime of that era: Chinese Puzzle, Slave Safari, and Assassin's Playoff. Word of mouth hooked me, as did a quick look at the intro essay from Murphy. But the cover sealed the deal: Dude with a sword. Babe in a half-shirt. And some guy (yes, I know it's Remo Williams' partner, Chiun, but I'm trying to recreate my first impression here... deal with it) doing some serious kung-fu-looking shit. The cover's so pulpy and crazy, there's practically no room for a book club logo. Sorry, Oprah!

St. Martin's Gives Me the Pink Slip

Check out this wicked cool brainchild of the St. Martin's marketing department: the first 50 pages of Severance Package, fronted by a a faux pink slip--not the kind you're given when you win a sportscar in a poker game, but the kind you're given when someone fires your lazy ass. (Click on the image to englarge.) Cool, isn't it? This baby went out to various booksellers and reviews a few weeks ago inside the infamous "Beast in a Box," which showcases four Minotaur titles. That's right. Beast in a Box. Almost as fun as Dick in a Box, if you ask me.

Anyway, I brought a bunch of these to L.A. this past weekend, and a few made it into the hands of various Treasured Friends of Swierczy. But I have more. If you're a bookseller or reviewer, and you didn't receive the Beast in a Box, and would like your very own signed Severance Package pink slip sampler (say that three times fast), drop me a line at duane.swier AT verizon.net along with your address. I will rectify this situation immediately.