Two Reasons to Hit a Comic Shop Today

1. Chances are, your local comic shop is giving away a sweet little bit of Marvel swag: an April calendar featuring the big "Secret Invasion" event. But on the back (or the front, depending on how it's folded) is a March calendar featuring Cable. I grabbed a bunch yesterday, and forced my kids to hang one in their room. Hey, promotion knows no bounds. And if the big mutant with the glowing eye gives them nightmares... well, that's just part of the joy of childhood. (Remind to tell you sometime about the evil clown my father painted on my bedroom wall... one with real seatbelts for arms, that came out of the freakin' wall...)

2. Ed Brubaker's Criminal Vol. 2 #1 hit the racks yesterday. If you're a fan of Hard Case Crime and Gold Medal paperbacks and Cain and Thompson and Goodis and the gang, you can't afford to miss this hardboiled pulp noir comic. And if you're a newbie, this issue is the perfect place to dive in: "Second Chance in Hell" is a self-contained story, packed with more pages than the usual Criminal installment. I'm also proud to report that my short essay about David Goodis, "Knock Me Over," is included in the back, along with an amazing Sean Phillips illustration. This essay won't appear anywhere else, and the extras aren't reprinted in the trades.

So to recap: walk into a comic shop with $3.50, and walk out with a cool poster, a killer noir story, and a little noir essay by your friendly neighborhood Pole. Tell me a better deal than that and I'll buy you a hot dog.

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.

The Bride Recommends...

... Standing Still, by Kelly Simmons. Simon and Shuster sent me a copy a few weeks ago; Meredith picked it up yesterday and pretty much devoured it in three sittings, raving about it the whole time. I'll admit: the cover makes me think it's a romance, or some generation-spanning chick lit. But apparently, it's a very taut suspense story about a kidnapping, marital misdeeds and shady pasts. (Check out the UK version, published as Skylight. See what I mean? It's a thriller!)

"The Bride Recommends" is an occasional feature in which Swierczy's better half recommends a book.Want to send Swierczy or his Bride a book to check out? Email him for contact info.

The Ultimate in Paperback Nerd Gear

Yep. I've gone and done it. I've inched over just a little further into total Gold Medal Geekdom. Mass-Market Madness. The full-on Bill Crider Crazies.

Last week, I purchased 300 paperback-sized poly bags from Budd Plant in Grass Valley, California. I purchased these bags ($6.50 for 100, plus shipping and handling) for the express purpose of bagging and sealing my Gold Medal, Lion, Signet, Avon, Pocket, Bantam and other assorted vintage paperbacks.

In the words of my son Parker: "Dad, that's the most boring package ever."

And maybe he's right.

But would you look at those mothers (above)? All safe and nestled in their bright, shiny polypropylene pockets? It's a thing of beauty. And I've spend a lot of time this weekend bagging my collection. The most needy cases were served first: my Goodises, Horace McCoys, Cains, Woolriches, Westlakes, Starks, Thompsons. Followed by any Gold Medals and Lions. There are only so many bags to go around, and I'm afraid I had to play favorites. The task is not finished, but already I see that three hundred is far, far too few...

And yes, I said polypropylene. Sorry Al Gore. Sorry Planet Earth. These suckers will be around forever. That's the point!

Mmmmmm. Bags...

When the Crimedogs Come Back...

... they come back in a big way. Not only is Plots With Guns back in a big way (including stories by Secret Dead Blog pals Greg Bardsley, Matthew Louis and Stephen Blackmoore), but the boys themselves landed on the cover of the next Crimespree. What's next? An appearance on ABC Television?

3 Cool Things That Happened When I Turned 36

1. Today's mail brought a vital missing piece of my Joe R. Lansdale library: Texas Night Riders, an early western pulp novel written under the pen name of "Ray Slater." I open up the package, and... bonus! It was signed by Mr. Lansdale hisownself. (This same happy accident happened with a copy of Richard Laymon's The Cellar I ordered last year.) Sometimes, the book gods really do smile upon me.

2. I spent the morning of my birthday writing a comic script about a character celebrating his birthday. I swear, it was a total coincidence. One major difference: I'll most likely end this day with my family, chilling out. This character will most likely end his day getting the shit beat out of him.

3. The Bride and Brood gave me one of the awesomest presents I've received in a long, long time: a plane ticket to Edinburgh. Remember the craziness of Allan Guthrie Week last year? Prepare for the sequel, my friends.

Hungry For Work

No, not that kind of work. I mean Gun Work. Charles Ardai just posted the cover and a sample chapter of David J. Schow's sure-to-be-awesome Hard Case Crime novel, due out in... egads, November. I'm dying to read this now. Now, damnit. As I've mentioned previously, I've been a huge Schow fan since the old school late 1980s splatterpunk days, and if you haven't read The Kill Riff or Seeing Red or Lost Angels (just to name a few), you have some catching up to do before November. Which feels like a long, long freakin' time away...

(By way of consolation, I do have Charles Willeford's Made in Miami on deck, which Bill Crider mentioned on his blog a few days ago. So there's that. But still...)

Aw, Isn't He Cute?

Meet Cloverfield, your adorable little movie monster. Hasbro recently posted three images of the wee lil' fella, finally giving us a chance to gawk at all of his 70 points of articulation, up close and personal (without fear of throwing up or being eaten). I really think he's kind of cute. Might buy one for my daughter Sarah, who loves a good monster. And maybe it's just me, but doesn't it look like a mutated and bleached version of Mickey Mouse? (Look at the head and ears! Seriously!) I'm hoping for a plush version.

It's Me, Not You. Remember That

Here's my very last City Paper editor's letter. (It's Valentine's Day, so of course it' s a breakup letter.)

Freakangels! Coming!

Warren Ellis asked folks to spread the word. Who am I to refuse?

(Besides, this doubles as a countdown to my last day at City Paper. Handy!)

Stéphane Peru

Punisher: Force of Nature is out today, but its release is suddenly a very bittersweet thing. Two days ago, I learned that Stéphane Peru, who did the colors for this issue, died unexpectedly. He was only 26.

I didn't know Stéphane very well; we only traded a few short emails as he sent in his color work (and I would tell him and the rest of the Marvel crew how much I dug it). But I've become quite friendly with Michel Lacombe, the artist of "Force of Nature," and he was very close to Stéphane. They worked together; they shared a studio together. They were, in Michel's own words, "family." And right now, my heart is breaking for Michel, his studiomates, and all of Stéphane's loved ones.

I knew I would never forget this issue; I had no idea it would be for this reason. Rest in peace, Stéphane.

Your Monday Moment of Noir

Her hands had fallen still, and she looked up at me blankly, then said quietly, "You're a rather profane and unhappy man, aren't you?"

"Lady, I'm worse than that," I said as I sat down.


The Wrong Case
by James Crumley
(Random House, 1975)

Beer of the Unknown

Over at the Big Adios message board there's an interesting thread about Mickey Spillane, and Max Allan Collins popped up this past weekend to explain why Spillane left some manuscripts unfinished, and why there aren't more Spillane novels out there:

[Spillane] did not need money and tended to only write when he felt like refreshing the coffers... The Miller Lite campaign cost us many Spillane books -- they were paying him to be a pitchman, and very well, so why write?

Yeah, another goddamned reason to hate "lite" beer.

If You're Going to Harpoon a Man...

CBR.com has posted six preview pages from Punisher: Force of Nature, due out next week. (The sample at left, oddly enough, is the first comic script page I ever wrote.) The art is by a talented and insane man named Michel Lacombe, who is one of those rare Canadians with a supremely frightening knowledge of automatic weapons. The issue hits finer comic shops everywhere next Wednesday; need I say that it would make a superb Valentine's Day gift?

Also, over at Wizard Universe, John Coleman hurls some Cable questions my way, and I do my best to stonewall him. Coleman also asked me to reveal what comics I've been digging lately, and you can find those answers here. (Though I can think of about two dozen comics I forgot to mention, damnit...)

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.

What Did I Do This Morning?

Ah, nothing.

Update: Thanks for all of the good wishes, guys. But I feel like I should give this post a warning label: Kids, don't try this at home.

A little bit of history: I sold The Wheelman about a month before I took the City Paper job. (This was back in the lazy, hazy crazy days of 2004.) There, in the span of one month, two lifelong dreams came true. People would ask how I managed to do both, and I'd laugh and make some kind of wisecrack like "Well, I don't really have a social life." (Utterly true, by the way.) Lately, though, I've been lucky enough to be stumble into more opportunities. What was a fun sideline turned into a full-fledged second career. I realized that I'd eventually have to choose. And in the past week, it became clear that it was the right time to pull the trigger.

What this means is that I'll finally have the chance to give novels and comics my full attention. I want to write more than one book a year. I want to write more comics, and Marvel has been great about giving me more opportunities to do so. There are also other projects that I'm looking forward to pulling off the perpetual back burner.

And yes, God help you all, I want to blog more.

Don't get me wrong: This is a leap of faith. I didn't inherit a large sum of money, or rob a bank. To be honest, part of me is having a freakin' heart attack right now. But I also know that I would have always regretted not taking a shot when it presented itself.

So prepare for more Swierczy than you can possibly stand. And wish me luck.

Only the Backs of Pulp Paperbacks Understand Me

From the back cover of Kiss Off the Dead by Garrity (Gold Medal, 1960.)

"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.