Secret Dead Blog Recommends: Assassination and Senseless

Assassination of a High School President, Brett Simon's dark, weird and funny debut, is out on DVD this week. You all need to watch it immediately.

Sure, I'm a bit biased, since Brett and I have adapted my novel Severance Package, and someday soon (hopefully) Brett will be directing the thing. But Assassination is the reason I teamed up with Brett in the first place. I was sent a top-secret screener about a year and a half ago, and I knew right away Brett was a sick fuck, and I needed to team up with him as soon as possible. Assassination is about a high school journalist named Bobby Funke (pronounced "funky") who's dead set on breaking an S.A.T. scandal, only to be blindsided, betrayed, and -- in that great James Ellroy tradition -- tied, dyed and swept to the side. Like all great noirs, there's a femme fatale (Mischa Barton). There's a hard-ass, possibly psychotic authority figure (Bruce Willis). There's sex. Violence. Plenty of cursing. In other words, everything that made high school so memorable.

And in a weird bit of synchronicity, Senseless, the debut of director Simon Hynd, was released on the very same day. Hynd is the director who is adapting my novel The Wheelman, along with Allan "Sunshine" Guthrie. I watched a top-secret screener of Senseless... well, also about a year and a half ago (hey, what can I say, a year and a half ago I was privvy to all kinds of cool shit) and it made me squirm like you wouldn't believe. This is a good thing. Movies almost never make me squirm.

Mr. Hynd is a lovely man. I've dined with him. I've gotten drunk with him. I've met his lovely wife. And yet, I can say, without hestiation, that he is a sick, sick fuck. I mean, look at the cover. Look at the eyeball on the spoon. Though, to be fair, some of the blame rests with novelist Stona Fitch, who wrote the original novel, which is just as sick as the movie. Mr. Fitch is also a warm, lovely gentleman, so much so that he loaned my wife his coat on a cold night as we were headed off in search of another bar on a cold night in Manhattan. But still: he is a sick fuck. Just like Mr. Hynd. And that Guthrie guy... well, it goes without saying that he's a sick fuck, too.

Definitely put these two in your Blockbuster queue, or your Netflix thingy, or better yet, buy copies to own, especially if you're curious about the minds who will someday be putting The Wheelman and Severance Package to film.

Sick, sick fucks.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

My Favorite Writing Advice (Third in a Series)

Ken Bruen, to interviewer (and novelist) Ray Banks:

"I like to strip everything to the bone, see if it stands up by itself. The doorstop books -- 500 pages and up -- Jesus wept, who has that amount of time to piss away. Ninety percent of what I read is padding and I roar, "Get the fuck on with it!"

You can read the full Bruen/Banks interview at Allan Guthrie's Noir Originals.

Highland Highlights, Pt. 1: Food and Drink

Number of Polish delis and restaurants in Edinburgh: too many to count. And it was strange to be on a Lothian 26 bus and hear a pair of women chattering away in front of me, only to realize that they were chattering away in Polish. I can't speak Polish, but my grandfather can. I kept wishing he were there with us to translate. And to see places like "Poliski Smak" (on Leith Walk) in the photo above.

Best thing I ate: Oat cakes. Seriously love them. The Bride thought they tasted like wallpaper, but I could have eaten them the entire trip.

Most disgusting thing I (almost) ate: a deep-fried hamburger. Imagine a pale pink meat patty, barely grilled, then dipped into this corn-dog like batter and then served up with thick, starchy chips (fries) heavy enough to use in sandbags. Two bites and I was done.

Best drink: Balvenie single malt scotch, with a splash of water. Don't give me shit about the water, okay? It's how I like it.

Worst drink: Irn-Bru. Made from girders, my ass. Tastes like it's made from the bastard child of orange Flintstones chewable vitamins and strained Gatorade.

Favorite fish and chips: Not saying I sampled them all, but I really enjoyed the fried Haddock over at the Blue Bean Coffeehouse in Portobello.

Favorite pub food: The hummus and pita at Milne's on Rose Street. Paired nicely with a Guinness.

Best pizza: Mama's, over in Grassmarket. We had it plain, but they'll also slap on stuff like chocolate and marshmallow, if you're the kind of person who likes to defile perfectly good pizza before consuming it.

Favorite bar: Tie between Espy's in Portobello and the Oxford over in New Town. Espy's had these great oversized couches, excellent burgers (note: NOT deep-fried) and a good selection of beer. The Oxford was fun because it was a throwback old man bar, and okay, I admit it: I was curious to check it out after hearing about it for so long in Ian Rankin novels.

Favorite candy (children's division): You know how crack addicts really like crack? That's how my kids felt about the Whipsa bar from Cadbury. Say the word "whispa" to them now is like saying "whiskey and whores" to sailors.

Favorite candy (adult division): I grew fond of the disgestive biscuits that were coated in chocolate on one side. Can't remember the brand name. The only way to improve this snack: replace the biscuit part with OAT CAKES.

Best display window horror lunch: Oink on Victoria Street in Old Town, which displays the warm, pungent remains of that day's special (sorry, Porky) right there in the front window... head still very much attached. My daughter cried; I thought the pig's sweet, tender flesh was delicious.

Favorite crisps: Walkers cheese and onion. But I'm sad that I wasn't able to sample some of the more exotic varieties advertised, such as Turkey and Stuffing, Prawn Cocktail and Lamb and Mint. And considering the large number of Poles in the area, shouldn't Walkers offer a Smoked Kielbasa crisp?

Fear and Lothian: The Return to Scotland

Sorry about the lack of updates. I've been scrambling to hit my deadlines to make sure the decks were clear for a return trip to Edinburgh... this time, with the Bride and Brood. (Last year I flew solo.) We leave today.

This isn't a work trip; it's a proper vacation, a sorely-needed chance to recharge my batteries after many months of non-stop work. Besides, a writer can't live in his/her basement. You have to go out and experience the world to have something to write about. (I'm dying to write a horror novel set in Edinburgh one of these days. Which I may or may not call MacCannibal.)

We'll be staying in close proximity to Allan Guthrie, whose new novel Slammer is just out in the UK (and will be out here in the US this fall), so you can expect some of his insanity to show up here on the blog. You remember what happened last time, don't you? And the time he lost his memory in Philadelphia?

The two of us will be doing a drop-in stock signing at Waterstones on Princes Street this coming Tuesday afternoon (March 24), so if you're anywhere in the Edinburgh area and want to say "yo" to this Philly boy, come on down.

Okay, so maybe this is kind of a work trip. Writers can't help it; life tends to be one massive research session for the next book/comic/screenplay. And the next one. And the one after that...

(Above photo from my last trip to Edinburgh. Not its best side, but I like it because it reminds me of Philadelphia.)

Tough Guys Finnish First

Here's a sweet little promo poster for a new crime paperback line debuting in Finland next month. And the first out of the gate, I'm proud to report, is my own Keikkakuski (a.k.a. The Wheelman). Series editor Juri Nummelin has been working on this line for a few years now, and it's great that it's finally seeing the light of day. The publisher is Arktinen Banaani, which primarily deals in funnybooks and graphic novels.

Also coming soon: Allan Guthrie's Edgar-nominated Viimeinen Suudelma (Kiss Her Goodbye) and Kevin Wignall's Edgar-nominated Kuka on Conrad Hirst? (Who Killed Conrad Hirst?). My own novel, of course, was not nominated for an Edgar, but shhhhhh. Don't tell anybody in Finland.

Hard Case Crime: The Musical

Okay, maybe not quite. (Though with American Psycho: The Musical, anything's possible, right?) Check out this interesting tidbit from HCC head honcho Charles Ardai's latest email newsletter:

We're also working on an exciting project with a burlesque troupe that will include a crime novel set in the world of burlesque (written by one of the performers) and a live stage show in New York based on the book (starring the author and the cover models).

I'm guessing it's Allan Guthrie, making his triumphant return to the paperback house that launched him in the U.S.

(I know he has the pasties.)

Ethan Iverson is Still Trying to Kill Me

I'm very happy about Ethan Iverson's reaction to both Severance Package and my buddy Sunshine's latest, Savage Night. (And yes, he's right -- there is a Bad Plus reference folded up and tucked away where you probably least expect it. Heh heh heh.)

I'm also glad he got over his funnybook phobia and picked up Criminal, Ed Brubaker's brilliant n' nasty crime comic published by Marvel's Icon imprint. All I have to do now is convince him to check out Scalped. And 100 Bullets. And DMZ...

There's also a great bit at the end of the post about my hero Fredric Brown and his mystery writer pal William Campbell Gault, taken from David Laurence Wilson's 1984 L.A. Times piece on Gault:

Gault’s closest friend was Fredric Brown, a frail intellectual who had also started out in Milwaukee. "Fred was the great, innovative one," Gault said. "He had a mind like Einstein and he peddled it for two cents a word."

What a brain whore.

(Photo by Chadwick Ginther. Yes, those are scotch bottles to the left and right of Sunshine's book.)

F*cking Up Someone Else's Day

Over at Noir Originals today, Al "Sunshine" Guthrie posted "The Plumber's Union," an interview with Tom Piccirilli. My favorite exchange:

AG: With the recent release of The Fever Kill and the impending publication of The Cold Spot, would it be safe to say your focus seems to have drifted away from horror and into the crime field?

TP: As I hurl shrieking into middle age, I feel a greater affinity for crime fiction. I seem to be more concerned with writing more realistic, authentic material. I feel comfortable with the crime field because in essence when you purify and distill horror you wind up with crime. Crime against man, crime against God, or crime against nature. Whether your monster is a werewolf or a serial killer or a bank robber, it boils down to somebody fucking up someone else’s day.

You can read the whole Q&A here. And if you haven't picked up Pic's Fever Kill yet... do it. It's modern-day Gold Medal pulp noir, even if it won't fit into one of my precious little plastic bags.

Superbadassery

Bill Hader, interviewing Ed Brubaker. What could go wrong?

Coolest revelation: Simon Pegg (who we all know is actually Allan Guthrie) turned Hader on to Criminal. Boy, what a small, small world.

"Catholic Boys are Best at Burying Hookers"

The only way to describe Brian Lindenmuth's recent interview with Al "Sunshine" Guthrie over at FantasyBookSpot.com is that it's like Robert Rodriguez's From Dusk 'Til Dawn: it starts out as a sober-minded discussion of noir writing, then about halfway though, all living fuck breaks loose, and you've got chainsaws, dead hookers, blowup dolls, and rampant insanity. Oh my Gentle Jesus.

Keep Him Talking

I'm the latest perp hauled in and given the rubber hose treatment over at Angie Johnson-Schmit's In For Questioning podcast series. Angie doesn't pull punches. Just a couple of questions in, I started singing like a canary, blubbering about my high school band years. It didn't help that Allan "Rat Fink" Guthrie gave Angie some inside dirt specifically designed to break down my defenses.

I hate listening to my own voice, so let me know how it turned out. And yes, I know I talk fast. You'll just have to get it over it.

The Usual, and Not So Usual, Suspects

The U.S. edition of Allan Guthrie's Hard Man is out today, and I strongly recommend you obtain a copy of your own, lest he send El Muerte after you. (Bolivian hit men are not to be trifled with.) Today is also Mr. Guthrie's birthday; he turns 107. What keeps him so young and apple-cheeked? Huge vats of skin cream. I watched him apply it. It's unsettling. So let's all make sure we support Mr. Guthrie's work so he can buy more skin cream. Of course, it also helps that Hard Man is hilarious, disturbing and full of surprises that come when you least expect them. It's the perfect Father's Day present. If you have that kind of dad.

Want to win a copy of Barry Eisler's Requiem for an Assassin? Head on over to CHUD.com and prepare to be bad. Real bad.

Seth Harwood, recently featured on a special edition of Shannon Clute and Richard Edwards' Behind the Black Mask, just launched his latest podcast a few days ago: Jack Palms II: This Is Life. I'm still catching up with the first 'cast, but I like the cut of this young man's jib. (Or something like that.) Check it out.

Surely I can't be the only one who's been digging Simon Spurrier's hit man/zombie epic Contract, which is available online, in huge weekly chunks, for free?

And while you can also read David Wellington's excellent hardboiled vampire epic 13 Bullets online for free, I recommend picking up the trade paperback from Three Rivers Press, the cover of which makes stunning use of silver and gore.

Pushing It

I swear, Allan Guthrie Week is over. Really. It's not my fault that a brand-new, top-shelf crime webzine called Pulp Pusher features a Q&A; with Sunshine in its debut issue. But you really should check it out. And while you're there, read the Q&A with Ken Bruen, as well as "Photos," an exclusive excerpt from Ken's forthcoming memoir, Benign Thug. It's a beautiful piece of writing that will also haunt the living hell out of you. Plus, there are stories by Ray Banks, Cathi Unsworth, Tony Black, JD Smith and Paul McGoran. All in an attractive package with the best sticker price of all: free.

Life is Hard

It's been nearly two years since we've been able to savor a new Allan Guthrie novel. With the forthcoming publication of Hard Man, the drought is finally at an end. American readers will have to wait until June to snag a copy, but those lucky fucks in the UK will have the Polygon edition in their hands within a few weeks. (Even luckier fucks, such as Secret Dead Blog, were able to score an advance edition.)

Along with Hard Man, of course, comes a sweet little media blitz for Al. You've got Sunshine on all fronts, such as...

Audio: Namely, the latest installment of Behind the Black Mask: Mysery Writers Revealed. That's right: Clute and Edwards strap Sunshine to their operating table of the mind, and, with their usual surgeon-like precision, they dig beneath the skin to unearth many gems. (Including: "Somebody actually described the book [Hard Man] as being a love story between a man and a dog.")

Print: Dig today's Evening News in Edinburgh, which reveals what we've suspected all along--Sunshine's a softy.

Video: Now I haven't been able to access this, but if you go to Meet the Author you'll be able to watch Sunshine in glorious Quicktime. (Or Real Player, if that's your thing, you pinko bastard.)

Coming soon: Allan Guthrie breakfast cereals, action figures, plush lovies and low-fat yogurt. And if they aren't coming soon, they damn well should be.

Seriously, though, all of the hoopla wouldn't be worth a bowl of lukewarm haggis if Hard Man didn't bring the goods. Let me tell you right now: Al's delivered the most finely-muscled, shock-filled, page-turning thriller I've read in years. About halfway through this sucker (and I refuse to spoil it, so don't ask), you're going to be begging Jesus for mercy. Quite literally. Order a copy now, or Secret Dead Blog will be very displeased.