Happy Holidays from Secret Dead Blog

And remember: if you hear someone sneaking down your chimney, and he's not wearing red, shoot to kill.

This Week's Reading

Maybe it's me, but this week seems unusually rich in good, free reads. Case in point:

1. Maxim Jakubowski's short essay on his friend (and noir legend) Derek Raymond/Robin Cook. No, not the medical thriller writer... ah, just read the essay at the Mulholland Books site and you'll see.

2. A free short story (also at the Mulholland Books site, but brought to you by Popcorn Fiction) by Secret Dead Blog favorite Charlie Huston. This doesn't make up for the fact that there will be no new Charlie Huston novel in 2011, but it does salve the wound a little. And Warren Ellis even squeezed a guest blog post out of Mr. Huston, which of course, was a must-read.

3. Ethan Iverson of The Bad Plus put together this annotated Donald Westlake bibiography that just blew me away. He's packed it with little nuggets of review, analysis, and correspondence with Westlake himself. I want Iverson to keep going until this baby is a short book. But until then, enjoy the current version.

Also: In the spirit of both free reads and Donald Westlake, the good folks at Oceanview Publishing, who recently produced Thrillers: 100 Must-Reads (edited by David Morrell and Hank Wagner), sent me a PDF of my short essay on Westlake/Richard Stark's first Parker novel, The Hunter. Want a copy? E-mail me at (duane DOT swier AT verizon DOT net) and I'll send it to you.

The Goodis Gathering: 2011

 

Save the date: on January 9, 2011, a crew of hardcore David Goodis fans will be gathering for another graveside memorial. Details are forthcoming, but expect new stops, new faces, piles of vintage paperbacks for sale and free beer. (You heard me.) If you're even mildly curious about the life of Philly's finest noir stylist, join us. No registration fee! And did I mention the free beer? Watch this space and NoirCon.info for details.

Goodis is a huge influence on my own work; I wrote "Lonergan's Girl" (included in the recent Philadelphia Noir anthology from Akashic) as a small tribute. He wrote about the streets where I grew up, as well as a Philadelphia that's only half-remembered now. All the more reason to remember the man and his work every year around the time of his death (January 7, 1967).

For past Secret Dead Blog coverage of Goodis, click right here.

(Photo courtesy Lou Boxer.)

The Secret Dead Blog Christmas Film Festival

If I were in charge of programming, say, a 10-movie Christmas movie marathon*, I'd fill it with lots of action, crime, noir, black comedy... and of course, some heart-warming classics. If I could program such a thing, here's what you'd be watching.

Opening Short: A Junky's Christmas (1993, directed by Nick Donkin and Melody McDaniel, produced by Francis Ford Coppola). William S. Burroughs and Christmas go together like Trent Reznor and... uh, Bing Crosby. Yes, this short is Claymation, which is pretty much the only traditional thing about this creepy-yet-oddly heartwarming short film. If your jaw hasn't dropped by the time our titular "junky" has opened the stolen suitcase, then you ain't human. (You can watch the whole thing on You Tube: Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.)

After the jump, it's onto the main features, starting with a trip into the raunchy/noir savant mind of Scott Phillips...

The Ice Harvest (2005, Harold Ramis). Of course, the film is not as good as the book (that goes without saying, and if you haven't read the book, stop reading this blog and go buy/download/steal a copy immediately. It's essential.) But I first watched this at the original GoodisCon back in 2007, and every year since it's not Christmas unless I'm hanging out with John Cusack as he orders tropical drinks at a strip club, slips on freezing rain, and places the world's lamest Christmas presents ever under his ex-wife's tree.
 

Batman Returns (1991, Tim Burton). Yes, it was a big mainstream Hollywood superhero flick. But goddamn, what a weird movie. I mean, seriously. Deformed children sent to live in sewers. Intelligent packs of penguins. Starlets killed by bat swarms. Stuffed animals torn apart by garbage disposals. Toxic waste. Kentucky-Fried Christopher Walken. And Batman is hardly in the thing! I put this movie on a few weeks ago, and it made my seven-year-old daughter cry. Which reminded me how much I loved this flick.

Less Than Zero (1987, Marek Kanievska). Even Bret Easton Ellis has warmed up to this one. The whole "Brat Pack" thing (the early novels of Ellis, Jay McInerney, Tama Janowitz) caught me at an impressionable age: 15, and trying to figure out what college/adult life would be like. So I listened to the Bangles song ("Hazy Shade of Winter," which is still fantastic) and checked the novel out of the library and -- between Zero and The Rules of Attraction -- gave myself quite an education. And the movie, which I saw much later, takes me back to that time.

Which brings us to the centerpiece of the festival, and the most obvious selections: The John McClane Double Feature.

Die Hard (1988, John McTiernan). The Veuve Cliquot of 'splodey action movies: often imitated, never bettered. Every time I watch it, I catch new things to admire. Like the brief exchange between the flight attendant and John McClane as he's pulling a giant teddy bear down from the overhead bin. Not a word is spoken; the woman's eyes, and McClane's stunned reaction, say it all. Suddenly, we're crushing on him, too.

Die Hard 2: Die Harder (1990, Renny Harlin). Even my 17-year-old self rolled his eyes when I saw the preview where John McClane has just ejected himself out of an exploding plane, mugging for the camera the whole time. And of course it doesn't hold a flaming air traffic flare to the first movie. But so what. It's our last chance to spent another Christmas holiday with McClane, since the next two sequels ignore this vital ingredient of the Die Hard formula. (Yeah, yeah, Live Free or Die Hard takes place over the Fourth of July, blah blah blah. It ain't Christmas.)

While your ears are still recovering from the gunfire and explosions, it's time to give you a...

Blast of Silence (1960, Allen Baron). Ed Brubaker turned me on to this movie, one of the last of the original noir cycle, and I'll be forever thankful. If the idea of wandering around 1959 New York City (Rockefeller Center, the Village, Harlem, the Staten Island Ferry) during the holidays inside the mind of a hitman who's slowly losing his shit appeals to you in the slightest... track down a copy right now. The Criterion DVD has great bonus features, including a "then-and-now" style NYC tour from Allen Baron, who wrote, directed and starred.

The Thin Man (1934, W.S. Van Dyke). I try to re-read Hammett's Thin Man during the holidays, because the action takes place during that long, strange week between Christmas and New Year's. This classic adaptation transports you there, no matter the time of the year. Just skip past the opening chapters, because it's painfully slow and sets up a central mystery which nobody gives a crap about. The central activities here are wise-cracking and drinking, as it should be during the holidays. That's not to say that we're dealing with an dysfunctional alcoholic couple in Nick and Nora Charles. You'd marry either of them in a heartbeat, because it seems like so much fun.

And finally, we end with a triple blast of  Shane Black Holiday Features. Nobody, and I mean nobody, does a Christmas action flick like Shane Black. As violent as it may be, I want to live in a Shane Black Christmas Village, where the femme fatales wear slinky Santa suits, people are routinely tortured, and shit may blow up at any given moment.

Lethal Weapon (1987, Richard Donner). This would have been the ultimate Christmas action movie if that pesky Die Hard hadn't shown up a year later. I've never spent the holidays in L.A., but thanks to this flick, this is how I'll always imagine it: a barefoot, bare-chested Mel Gibson, running down Hollywood Boulevard, desperate to beat the piss out of Gary Busey on a wet lawn.

The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996, Renny Harlin). Criminally underrated. Funny, mean, frantic and features the best Samuel L. Jackson line ever: "No, no, I sock 'em in the jaw and yell pop goes the weasel." Which is just one of many, many fucked-up and memorable lines. This is probably the funniest Black script, next to...

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2004, Shane Black). Back when KKBB first appeared, everybody in my crime writing circle went apeshit over it, and with good reason: it's a brilliant send-up/celebration of 1950s pulp detective series (most notably, Brett Halliday's Mike Shayne mysteries), buddy action flicks, and of course, Shane Black Christmas movies.

Okay, so that's my list. What would be playing at your film festival?

RELATED: Just noticed that Vince Keenan posted his own favorites yesterday, and there's a lot of nice overlap. Swear to God, I wasn't peeking at his list when I compiled mine.

(*Big thanks to Elizabeth Amber and Anthony Schiavino for inspiring this post on a Twitter exchange.)

A Little "Bloodsucking Hordes" and "Save the Children," Please

Recently I picked up a bunch of paperbacks from Angry Robot, a new-ish SF-fantasy imprint with attitude to spare. Case in point: instead of giving us a tired old genre label on the spine, each Angry Robot book includes a helpful "File Under" tab, which provides hyper-specific subgenre labels.

For instance, the brand of science fiction in Lauren Beukes' Moxyland includes "digital natives," "corporate wars," "future tech" and "teenage riot."

Which is not quite the same brand of science fiction as Colin Harvey's Damage Time, which includes "a decaying USA," "brain reading," "wrongful arrest," and "murderous secrets."

And that's not to be confused with the science fiction of Thomas Blackthorne, whose Edge concerns itself with "devastated Britain" (why should the USA have all of the fun?), "legalized duelling," "corporate atrocity," and, somewhat strangely, "save the children" (though to be fair, I haven't read the book yet.)


Not only are the labels on Dan Abnett's forthcoming Embedded awesome ("anything for a story" and "stay alive!"), but the book has one of the best high-concept premises I've heard in a long, long time.

And while I'm not the world's biggest fantasy reader, the labels on Andy Remic's Kell's Legend reeled me in. How can you resist "a city besieged," "a dangerous hero," "bloodsucking hordes," and "sweeping battles."

Dude. Bloodsucking hordes. Say no more. Here's my credit card.

Angry Robot also scores major points with me for suggesting other genre novels from other publishers. If you like Blackthorne's Edge, the cover copy suggests you give Koushun Takami's Battle Royale, Michael Marshall Smith's Spares and Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club a whirl. (And, of course, gives you more insight into what to expect with Edge.) It's always cool when publishers promote books across the board, not just titles on their own imprints.

I'm liking the cut of your jib, Mr. Robot. Stay Angry. Stay weird.

Upcoming Philly Noir Events

The Philadelphia Noir tour continues with three back-to-back events this week! (And one in Brooklyn next year, for good measure.) I'll be at the first event, this Wednesday night.

Wed., Dec. 8, 7:30pm
Ursinus College, Berman Museum of Art
601 East Main Street
COLLEGEVILLE, PA 
"What is Noir?" event featuring editor Carlin Romano, with contributors Laura Spagnoli, Duane Swierczynski, Jim Zervanos, and others TBA


Thurs., Dec. 9, 7:00pm
Chester County Book & Music Company
975 Paoli Pike
WEST CHESTER, PA
*Featuring editor Carlin Romano, with contributor Gerald Kolpan, and George Anastasia, author of Philadelphia Real Noir.

Fri., Dec. 10, 6:00pm
The Doylestown Bookshop
16 S. Main St.
DOYLESTOWN, PA
*Featuring editor Carlin Romano, with contributors Diane Ayres and Dennis Tafoya.

Fri., Jan. 21, 7:30pm
Greenlight Bookstore
686 Fulton St.
BROOKLYN, NY
*Featuring editor Carlin Romano, and contributor Halimah Marcus, with Bronx Noir editor/Manhattan Noir contributor S.J. Rozan, and Tim Mcloughlin, editor of Brooklyn Noir 1, 2, and 3

(Image courtesy Temple Urban Archives.)

A Great Experiment, Indeed

Last night I drove down to the Philadelphia History Museum to attend the pilot screening of Philadelphia: The Great Experiment. Both the museum and documentary are works-in-progress. The former, which used to be known as the Atwater-Kent, is in the middle of massive renovations and preparing for a spring 2011 relaunch. Likewise, the pilot of Great Experiment is a 30-minute glimpse at what will (hopefully) become a seven hour mini-series telling the story of Philadelphia -- America's ultimate "R&D lab," in the words of executive producer Sam Katz.

City Hall Rises: a still from Philadelphia: The Great Experiment.

Katz told the packed house that he was inspired to start the project after looking for a good, multi-part documentary about Philly... and coming up empty. New York had one (thanks to Ric Burns); Chicago had one, as well as Vegas. Why not Philly? (Once again, the best reason for any creative project: when you find yourself reaching for a book or film that doesn't exist yet.)

After watching those 30 tantalizing minutes, I want to see the whole thing. I want to see the whole thing right now.


The pilot covers a lot of ground: eleven years of city history, from Lincoln's funeral procession crawling through the streets of Philadelphia (1865) to the opening of the Centennial Exposition (1876). But it's the characters that bring the period to vivid life, from party bosses to early civil rights pioneers. Most striking: the stories of Octavius V. Catto and Caroline Le Count, two African-American school teachers. Nearly 90 years before Rosa Parks, Le Count boarded a streetcar on Lombard Street and refused to leave. The operator tried to force Le Count off the vehicle; she stayed put. So instead, the operator unhitched the horses and instructed the other passengers to catch another car. Le Count sat alone in the abdandoned car...  for the next 24 hours. Le Count and Octavius Catto would go on to fight for the desegregation of streetcars, a fight that is brilliantly detailed in Great Experiment. Unfortunately, Catto would pay the ultimate price. On Election Day 1871, the 31-year-old schoolteacher was shot on the corner of 9th and South by rioters trying to keep African-Americans from the polls.

Stories like these -- forgotten by far too many -- are just one of the reasons we need this mini-series.

Katz's company, History Making Productions, has a two-minute sample of the series on their website, as well as five cool "webisodes" on topics such as baseball, volunteer firefighting and everybody's old favorite: the Sanitary Fair of 1864. (Which is actually pretty damn fascinating.) They're also looking to host other screenings of the pilot, so if you're in a position to do so, drop 'em a line. And of course, they're always looking for donations to complete the project.

So if you happen to have a few spare million, I suggest you write Mr. Katz a check immediately. Because I want to see the whole thing. Right now.

Poe's Dorm Room

From February to December 1826, 17-year-old Edgar Allan Poe attended the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. This is the interior of his room, #13 (naturally) on the West Range, which has been maintained by UVA's Raven Society for over a century.  Number 13 was first restored to its 1826 look back in 1907, and then re-restored in 1950s. According to the Society's website, that's actually Poe's old bed, from the Allan home in Richmond, VA.

I was in Charlottesville this past weekend with my family, visiting a dear old friend who insisted on showing us this room. So glad he did. Because later, when we toured Monticello, the year "1826" clicked for me. Seems that Thomas Jefferson liked to check on the progress of his University from his study at Monticello, and would look down through a telescope at the construction of the famous Rotunda. Jefferson died July 4, 1826, a few months before the Rotunda was complete.

Does this mean that Jefferson could have caught a glimpse of a youthful Edgar Poe, playing sports on the famous Lawn, during the spring/early summer of 1826?

I'd like to think so.

(Photo by Meredith Swierczynski. Click on the image for a larger view.)

Wade Wilson's War Just Got Bigger

No, really. The brand-spankin' new hardcover edition of Deadpool: Wade Wilson's War, my collaboration with Jason (Body Bags) Pearson, is slightly larger than the original comic version. (See above: the hardcover is on the left, and original floppy version on the right.) All the better to see Jason's eye-popping and kinetic artwork, I say. And might I suggest that Wade Wilson's War makes the ideal holiday gift for the Deadpool fan in your life? (Available at finer comic shops everywhere, as well as Amazon and B&N.)

When Philadelphia Ruled the Skies

I stumbled across this amazing illustration while browsing the online Popular Graphic Arts collection at the Library of Congress. (I figure if you're going to procrastinate, might as well do something more constructive than play Angry Birds.) The listing doesn't specify where this originally appeared; the name on the shelf list card is "Webster & Hunter." But it does reminds me of those beautiful, elaborate illustrations that used to appear in Joseph Pulitzer's New York World. Click on the image above for a much more detailed look.

Once upon a time, Philly had the world's tallest habitable building -- our City Hall -- and kept that title until 1908. The other buildings weren't too shabby, either... though I wonder how many still exist. Just off the top of my head, I know the Masonic Temple (#10) and Land Title Building (#15) are still around, and of course they haven't torn down either City Hall or Independence Hall (#9). But the others...? Feel free to share in the comments section, especially if you know where this illustration may have first appeared.

(Illustration courtesy the Popular Graphic Arts collection, Library of Congress.)

Forthcoming Awesome from Stark House

Stark House Press, those fine purveyors of pulp and hardboiled reprints (and recently, some badass originals) have cool stuff headed our way. First up: two Peter Rabe books that have never seen the light of day: The Silent Wall and The Return of Marvin Palaver, as well as a short story called "Hard Case Redhead." From the Stark House press release:

Shortly before his death in 1990, Rabe had sent these manuscripts to friend and author Ed Gorman, who’s had them in his possession until now.  We’re ecstatic to be the ones who are finally bringing these books, along with the short story “Hard Case Redhead,” into the world.  In “Redhead,” two thieves and their uninvited guest try to wait out the aftermath of a troublesome heist.  It’s hard-boiled and noir and shows that Rabe could write just as well at shorter lengths.

Kind of makes you wonder what other pulp goodies are hiding out in the secret underground lair of Ed Gorman... right next to the giant penny and the huge dinosaur, of course. (Just kidding, Ed.) (Sort of.)

Stark House will also be publishing a two-in-one edition of Gang Girl and Sex Bum by "Don Elliott," who you SF-heads might recognize as the 1960s sleaze paperback pen name of Robert Silverberg.

And finally, Stark House is kicking off their own book club, promising free shipping, no minimum, no obligation to buy. For details you can e-mail Stark House publisher Greg Shepard at griffinskye3 [AT] sbcglobal.net or visit www.starkhousepresscom.

Planes, Trains and Russian Super-Spies

Just in time for your Thanksgiving holiday reading needs, Black Widow #8 is available in finer comic shops everywhere. (CBR has a preview right here.) It's the conclusion of my first arc, "Kiss or Kill," and cues up the action in Widowmaker, my Widow/Hawkeye/Mockingbird crossover with Jim McCann.

105 Years Ago in Philadelphia

Here's one of my favorite Philadelphia images from Shorpy.com: the 1905 view from Broad and Spruce streets, with City Hall in the distance, as well as the Academy of Music and the Bellevue-Stratford on the left. (If you were here for NoirCon, and you stayed/drank at the Doubletree Hotel, you were one block up the street.)

 Here's the view from almost the same spot today:

A Drink to Wash Down the Noir

Some say noir is the literature of "no hope." So naturally, a bunch of us are doing a Philadelphia Noir signing in New Hope, PA. This Friday night, editor Carlin Romano will be gathering Noir contributors Cordelia Frances Biddle, Diane Ayres, Dennis Tafoya, Jim Zervanos and yours truly for a special reading and signing party at Marcella's, 7 E. Ferry Street, at 7 p.m. The night is hosted by the awesome folks at Farley's Bookshop, who ran the book tables at NoirCon 2010 a few weeks ago. You can find more details about the event right here.

Best of all: buy a copy of the book, and Farley's will buy you a glass of champagne or wine.

Somehow, I think I forgot to blog about Philadelphia Noir. I'm very proud of my contribution, "Lonergan's Girl," which is set in 1924, making it my first stab at historical crime fiction. (The story is also a prequel to a full-fledged Prohibition-era Philly crime novel I've been writing/researching.) And I'm very proud to be in the company of writers like Tafoya, Romano, Ayres, Biddle and Zervanos, among other usual (and unusual) suspects.

If you're anywhere near scenic New Hope this Friday night, I hope you'll stop by and say hello.

Deadpool and Cable, Together Again

Wait... is this Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth? Or is it Cable, the time-traveling mutant with the pouch-and-oversized-gun fetish? Could it be both? In the same body? You'll find out in February when you buy multiple copies of...

DEADPOOL & CABLE #26
Written by DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI
Penciled by LEO FERNANDEZ
Cover by DAVE WILKINS
 
Cable is dead, and no one’s more devastated than his old friend and partner, Deadpool (a.k.a. Wade Wilson, a.k.a. the Merc With the Mouth, a.k.a. the guy who’s in pretty much every other solicit this month). Sitting by Cable’s grave, Deadpool struggles to find the perfect way to honor his fallen mutant pal. Then… light bulb! Deadpool remembers Rumekistan, the troubled and totally fictional European country that Cable once tried to turn into a Utopia on earth. Deadpool travels there to establish up a Cable museum! A Cable amusement park! A Cable cable TV show! But Rumekistan isn’t quite what it used to be, and Deadpool’s appearance only makes things worse. To set things right, Deadpool will have to do more than just honor his old friend -- he must become him!
 
40 PGS./Parental Advisory …$3.99 

(God, do I love this Dave Wilkins cover.)

The Real Boardwalk Empire

An aerial view of hotels along the Atlantic City, NJ board during the late 1920s. (Click on the photo for a larger view.) Don't know if you're as smitten with HBO's Boardwalk Empire as I am... but either way, it's a rush to see the real thing. I've been to the A.C. boardwalk this past summer, and let me tell ya: it don't look like this no more.

I found this photo in an online collection at the website of The Library Company of Philadelphia, which is a motherlode for Philly history nerds. (If you dig aerials, definitely check out the Aero Service Negative collection right here.) Wait until you see the Philly waterfront photos I dug up...

Friday at NoirCon 2010

Not everyone is lucky enough to be hanging in Philadelphia this weekend, so pay attention to this space (and my Twitter feed at twitter.com/swierczy) for updates throughout the weeekend. First up: the notorious "noir and porn" panel at 9 a.m. Because there's nothing better than noir and porn for breakfast.

NoirCon, Pre and Post

NoirCon kicks off in Philadelphia this Thursday, and I couldn't be more excited. Bouchercon is always a blast, but there's something to be said for the smaller, more intimate cons.

If you're anywhere near Philadelphia... or could be!... it's not too late. You can still register and hang out with crime fiction superstars like Megan Abbott, Scott Phillips, George Pelecanos, Christa Faust, Daniel Woodrell and Reed Farrel Coleman (to name just a few). The program is action-packed. The conversation (and drinks) will be flowing. All this, and the City of Brotherly Love, too!

There are also two NoirCon-related, off-campus events I want to mention (and no registration required:

This Wednesday night, NoirCon Eve, Mike White will be signing his fantastic Impossibly Funky: A Cashiers Du Cinemart Collection, at Brickbat Books (7 p.m., 709 South Fourth Street, Philadelphia PA 19147). Packed with groovy film writing, Funky also includes some mighty fine pieces on David Goodis, James Ellroy and Richard Stark's Parker novels. Secret Dead Blog approves.

And then on Sunday afternoon, Philadelphia Noir editor Carlin Romano along with a whole gaggle of contributors, including yours truly, Dennis Tafoya, Meredith Anthony, Keith Gilman and Jim Zervanos, will be reading/signing/hanging at the Moonstone Arts Center (a.k.a. Robin's Books). The event starts at 2 p.m., right around the time your hangover will start to wear off.

If you're attending any part of NoirCon, sound off in the comments section. And if not, check this blog and my Twitter feed (twitter.com/swierczy) for updates straight from the underbelly of the con.

A Civil War Time Machine

You've seen plenty of serial fiction over the past few years. But what about serial non-fiction?

Today my friend and mentor Jamie Malanowski (of Spy, Time and Playboy fame, as well as author of the political satire novel, The Coup) kicks off an interesting series in the New York Times: weekly, real-time updates of the Civil War story... exactly 150 years after the fact.

The first installment takes place Hallowe'en 1860, a week before the presidential election, and Republican Abraham Lincoln is duking it out with Democrat Stephen Douglas. It's a very rousing read, despite the fact that you may know how things turn out. (SPOILER ALERT: Lincoln will go on to be elected president.) That's the point, though. You can tuck away your history textbooks and fuzzy memories of junior high and experience the era "live," as it unfolded.

And, I hasten to add, there's not a vampire in sight.

This is a very cool experiment; I'll be looking forward to updates each Monday.

100 Years Ago in Philadelphia

Shorpy, my internet-based time machine of choice, featured this eye-popping photo yesterday. That's the Bellevue-Stratford in Philadelphia, exactly 100 years ago. When you click on the link, definitely open up the high-def version; the detail is unreal.

I've gone on about the Bellevue before; it's one of my favorite buildings in the city, and well worth a visit (especially if you're coming here for NoirCon). Here's how the building looks today:

Still a beaut, ain't she?

Back in Black

Tomorrow Black Widow #7, part deux of my three-issue arc, hits finer comic shops everywhere. CBR has a preview right here; hope you'll give it a kick.

For Ed Pettit

I'm guessing that when my friend Ed Pettit, a.k.a. the Philly Poe Guy, shuffles off the mortal coil and floats off to his ideal afterlife, it will be this: a huge library with a smoking section.

(Image from the Temple University Urban Archives, an amazing repository of all things vintage and historic in the City of Brotherly Love. Like them on Facebook; follow them on Twitter. Photo originally taken for the Philadelphia Bulletin on April 2, 1959.)

The Star Whackers Are Coming

This weekend I read about Randy Quaid's recent... uh, adventures in Canada, and I got a weird feeling in my stomach when I saw this note:

Apparently, Quaid and his wife fled to Canada to escape hit men who target Hollywood stars.

Many people think the Quaids are a few forks short a silverware drawer.

However, I would like to defend Mr. Quaid and his wife, because I happen to know the "Star Whackers" are real. In fact, I wrote an entire novel about them, and Mulholland Books just posted an excerpt from that novel, which I'm calling Fun and Games.

Stay strong, Quaids. Help is on the way.


(Quaid note photo from The Vancouver Sun.)

Date in Germany

Here's the cover for the German edition of my recent novel, Expiration Date, retitled Alte Feinde (Old Enemies), which is out this month. What's cool about the Heyne editions is that the same design carrying over from title to title to title. Every cover features an object; in this case, it's an hourglass. And as usual, the byline is "Duane Louis," which I've explained earlier.

Special thanks to translator Frank Dabrock, who's had to put up with my weird American-isms (and Philadelphia-isms) four books in a row now.

And not too long ago I received the very good news that Heyne will be publishing the German editions of my new trilogy--Fun and Games, Hell and Gone and Point and Shoot. Wonder if the design will carry forward, or if Heyne will come up with something else. Stay tuned!

Secret Dead Blog Recommends: Pulp History: Devil Dog

Saying the word "pulp" to me is like saying "grog and whores" to a 19th century sailor; right away you've got my attention.

Say the word "history," and I'm going to lean a little closer. See, I'm a history nerd. When not reading novels, I'm devouring books like Jonathan Eig's Get Capone and Ben Macintyre's Operation Mincemeat and Luc Sante's Low Life.

Put "pulp" and "history" together, and I'm going to pick up the book and take it to the counter and hand the store employee a credit card and then go find some quiet place to read.

Which is what I did in San Francisco this past weekend. I was browsing at City Lights (highly recommended, if you've never been) and saw a curious-looking book on the history shelves: Devil Dog: The Amazing True Story of the Man Who Saved America by David Talbot. It took me about 10 seconds of skimming before I realized that I knew the titular "Devil Dog" very well: it refers to Smedley Butler, the Marine general who was brought to Philadelphia during the mid-1920s to clean up the bootlegging rackets.

But as the cover -- and the word "pulp" -- implies, this is not a plain Jane biography of Butler. Instead you've got a shotgun blast of illustrations and comix (by the legendary Spain Rodriguez), magazine-style sidebars and call-out quotes, archival art and photos, and most importantly, sharp and action-packed writing. Of all the things to be slapped with the "pulp" label over the years, this new series (conceived by Talbot, founder and former editor-in-chief of Salon, and his sister, New Yorker writer Margaret Talbot) really earns it. Devil Dog is relentless in its attempt to entertain, stun, surprise, and -- rather subversively -- shock you with some rather nasty bits of American history.

For instance: I've done a lot of reading about Butler's Philadelphia years, but I had no idea how harrowing Butler's early military career had been. The highlights could be pulp magazine cover lines:

I WAS SHOT IN THE CHEST AND LIVED!


THEIR SEVERED HEADS WERE MOUNTED...
... ON TELEGRAPH POLES!


THE EMPRESS HAD ME STRIPPED AND OILED*

(*Note: It wasn't Butler who alleged he'd been stripped and oiled. You'll have to read the book for more.)

You get the idea, though. And while the details are sensational, Devil Dog isn't sensationalist. It's actually a cold hard shot of truth along the lines of Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States. And Butler emerges not as a 2D pulp-style hero, but a tough, complex, flawed man determined to do the right thing, no matter the personal cost. After reading Devil Dog, I felt like I'd just watched one helluva a biopic, with blood-splattered images right out of a Scorcese film.

The good news? Pulp History is the start of a series. The second installment, Gary Kamiya's Shadow Knights: The Secret War Against Hitler, is at the top of my TBR pile right now.

The bad news: These two are it, for the time being. I have to imagine these take a while to produce, but damn do I want a whole shelf of these things right now.

(UPDATE: One weird bit of synchronicity: I just realized that David and Margaret Talbot, along with brother Stephen, are The Talbot Players, a self-described "story machine" that produces books, documentaries and films. Their offices are in Francis Ford Coppola's famous Sentinel Building in North Beach. Where did I go, after immediately purchasing Devil Dog, to have a drink and thumb through its pages? Coppola's Cafe Zoetrope, in the lobby of that same building.)

Rolling on The Rock

This weekend I took some time off from Bouchercon to visit Alcatraz, a.k.a. "The Rock."

As seen in crime classics such as Birdman of Alcatraz, Point Blank, The Enforcer, Murder in the First, and of course, The Rock.

Home to such gangland luminaries as Al Capone, "Doc" Barker and Alvin "Creepy" Karpis.

Here's a brief slideshow of my trip.

Bouchercon 2010: Yeah, I Feel Lucky, Punk

Early tomorrow morning I'm headed off to Bouchercon 2010, which this year is being held in the lovely city of San Francisco. Very happy to be seeing old degenerate friends, as well as meeting new degenerate friends. I might file a blog entry here and there... but no promises. If you want that vicarious Bouchercon feeling, your best bet is follow my Twitter posts (I'll do my best to update as much as possible) as well as the #bcon2010 hashtag. Drink while you read, and it'll be like you're there, swear to God.

And if you're going to be attending Bouchercon, don't be shy. Say hello! I'll most likely react by buying you a drink.

Noir Town, USA

Faithful Secret Dead Blog readers will know that I traveled cross-country with my family this summer. There are some more details from that trip in a short essay I wrote for Mulholland Books.

Ann-Margret vs. Sqweegel

Okay, those are four words I didn't think I'd be typing.

But it's true: Sqweegel -- or at least, a black-clad version of him -- will be making a special crossover appearance on this week's CSI (airing Thursday night at 9 p.m.)

Sqweegel, for those who are new to this blog, is the main villain from Level 26: Dark Origins, the novel I co-wrote with CSI creator Anthony E. Zuiker. The next Level 26 novel, Dark Prophecy, is out in hardcover this Thursday, and Anthony came up with the mad genius idea to have Sqweegel, a forensic-proof killer, duke it out with Nick Stokes, Catherine Willows and the rest of gang in this release-day episode.

The guest star is Ann-Margret, people. This means Sqweegel has two degrees of separation from Elvis.

I've been a longtime CSI fan, ever since the Bride turned me on to the show back in... geez, 2003? We'd gorge on the box sets, which were perfect for watching between diaper changes and feedings (our son Parker was barely a year old then). I know this sounds like retro-brown-nosing, but really: I've been hooked on CSI long before I spoke word one to my eventual collaborator. I'm not sure Anthony believes this, but it's true.

So to have a character I worked on make his TV debut is more than a little exciting. When the episode airs, I'll be at Bouchercon in San Francisco. I'm hoping to find a bar that will play the episode so I can watch while I hoist a celebratory cocktail. I hope you guys will have a chance to check it out, too. While I haven't seen the episode, my editor has -- and tells me it is scary as shit.

You can check out a preview right here.

And if you're a Level 26 fan, you should definitely order a copy rightthisminute. (The first novel is just out in paperback from Signet.)

(Photo courtesy CBS Broadcasting Inc.)

My Bouchercon Schedule

Headed to Bouchercon in San Francisco this week? Have no idea what you're going to do with your Friday? Allow me to humbly suggest two panels, one first thing in the morning, and one in the afternoon. Let's start with the eye-opener:

8:30 a.m.: The Hard Breed: Beyond Novels. Author who write more than just novels. Moderated by Jeremy Lynch. Panel: Gregg Hurwitz, Duane Swierczynski, Robert Ward, Lou Berney, Hal Ackerman. Room: Bayview A.

I think I speak for all of my co-panelists when I say that attendees with bloody mary mix will be especially welcome.

3 p.m.: Murder By Proxy: Mulholland Books Presents. Moderated by John Schoenfelder and Miriam Parker. Panel: Mark Billingham, Marcia Clark, Duane Swierczynski, Daniel Woodrell, Sebastian Rotella. Room: Grand Ballroom C.

Wow, our official coming out party.

Also, at 12:30 p.m., I'll be signing books and hanging out with Jon and Ruth Jordan at the Bouchercon 2011 table.  Jen Forbus has the complete rundown right here.

Hope you can drop by one of these three events. If not, please don't be shy about introducing yourself. I'm usually in one of two places: the book room or the hotel bar. (If they served scotch in the book room, I'd probably stay there the whole time.)

Secret Dead Blog Recommends: Following the Detectives

Place is important to me, as a writer and a reader. As much as I love Ed McBain's books, I've always had a problem with the 87th Precinct series, because I know that "Isola" is just an inverted Manhattan, and I end up trying to do the math in my head. (Wait... is this supposed to be Greenwich Village? Ah, damnit...) See, I want pieces of the real Manhattan in my crime novels, just like I want pieces of real L.A., real New York City, and real San Francisco in my film noir. There's nothing like seeing a place through the eyes of its crime writers and screenwriters.

Which is why Following the Detectives: Real Locations in Crime Fiction (New Holland Publishers), edited by Maxim Jakubowski, is such a pure delight. Jakubowski has gathered a crack team of contributors (Sarah Weinman, Barry Forshaw, Declan Burke, Martin Edwards, J. Kingston Pierce, and Philly's own Peter Rozovsky, among others) to examine 21 locales through the prism of crime fiction. You've got Ian Rankin's Edinburgh; Lawrence Block's New York City; John Harvey's Nottingham; George Pelecanos's D.C., Dashiell Hammett's San Francisco, Arthur Conan Doyle's London... as well as maps, sidebars, and photos galore. Hell, I feel like I've been to Nottingham, after Harvey's candid and revealing essay.

Sure, you could quibble about what you wish might have been included -- personally, I was hoping for Laura Lippman's Baltimore and David Goodis's Philadelphia. But a.) you've gotta draw the line somewhere, and b.) you've gotta save something for the sequel.

And here's hoping there will be a sequel, because I scarfed this baby down in one night.

This is a UK book; I found my copy via Book Depository. But you can also your local indie bookstore to order a copy for you.

New Novella: "Speed Trap"

Every so often I'll write a novella -- something longer than a short story, yet far shorter than a novel -- and they usually end up in weird places. My sequel to The Blonde, a novella called "Redhead," was found in the back of the paperback edition, as well as available by request as a free PDF. (Offer still good, by the way. Just e-mail me and let me know that you've read The Blonde, and I'll send you back a "Redhead.")

My two interactive mysteries for Quirk (The Crimes of Dr. Watson, Batman: Murder at Wayne Manor) are also technically novellas, neither of them topping 20,000 words.

Over the summer I wrote a novella for IDW's G.I. Joe series called "Speed Trap," which will be included in a G.I. Joe: Cobra Wars anthology (edited by Max Brooks) next spring. But you can read the whole thing -- all 16,000 words of it -- right now, because the "Speed Trap" was included as a bonus feature in G.I. Cobra Special #2, available in finer comic book shops everywhere.

I'm proud of "Speed Trap" because I wrote it while traveling cross-country, and I tried to make use of what I saw on the road. I also tried to fit a novel's worth of plot into 16,000 words, gleefully tossing out anything that didn't keep the story moving, moving, moving. And I'm really happy to see that it's earned some kind words over at CBR.com today.

I'm still in the process of revising "Speed Trap" for the anthology, so Swierczy collectors (all three of you) might want to scoop up this issue, if you'd like to compare an early draft with the finished version.

And you don't have to be a die-hard G.I. Joe-head to appreciate the story; you learn all you need to know along the way. Hope you have a chance to check it out.

Here's Looking At You

Black Widow #6, my first issue on the series, is now available in finer comic shops everywhere.

The Poetry of Sylvester Gardenzio Stallone (Vol. 1)

When I wrote the script for Rocky, I wanted passion music. I wanted a symphony of powerful men...

... of lonely women.

... of thick-necked losers.

... of human ships that crash in the night.

... of love.

... of courage.

... of dignity cast in bronze.

--from Mr. Stallone's liner notes to Bill Conti's Rocky soundtrack (30th anniversary edition)

Frank Castle: Homeless!

Here's a reference photo I took a few years ago for the artists working on both Punisher: Six Hours to Kill and Werewolf By Night: In the Blood. I needed a Philly-area torture complex for the Punisher, and I also needed a place where Jack Russell could keep his giant werewolf-proof panic room. Feeling a little whimsical, I decided to use the same building -- the William Cramp & Sons Ship and Engine Building Company, down by the mighty Delaware River -- for both. Just imagine: Frank and Jack, crossing paths under a moonlit Philly night! (Below: Michel Lacombe's original art, showing the Punisher leaving the building.)

So I was sad to read today that they're tearing down the William Cramp & Sons building to make way for a bunch of I-95 exit ramps (via Philly Brownstoner). If anybody sees a pissed-off werewolf or a psychotic vigilante, you may refer them to the mayor's office.

David Thompson, 1971-2010

I heard the news this morning and thought it was a joke. Or some other David Thompson. I clicked through and saw that it was real. David was really gone.

I'm finding it difficult to write this, because I'm experiencing a surge of emotion that doesn't seem to want to be confined to words. So many memories; so much love for him. I'm sitting in my basement office, the same room where David stayed when he was here in Philly for the first NoirCon in 2007. I remember him talking about cars with my son Parker. Watching a goofy children's show with my daughter Sarah, making jokes in that wonderful, slow-motion Texas accent of his. (Sometimes I felt like we were the same record player, only set on different speeds: me on 78, David on 33.) I remember David reading an arc of Scott Sigler's Infected while he was here... see, I always paid close attention to what David was reading or recommending, because his recommendations were pure gold.

I remember taking the above photo at NoirCon -- the gag, of course, being the menopause reference, because we'd collaborated on Damn Near Dead (one of his first titles at Busted Flush Press). For a while there, we were the kings of a very specific sub-subgenre of mystery fiction: hardboiled geezer.

I remember the half-dozen times I stayed with David and McKenna at their place in Houston, and how they treated me like family, staying up late talking books and drinking beer and generally being silly.

I remember driving with David across scorching Texas, road tripping from Houston to Austin so that we could be at ConMisterio to promote Damn Near Dead, happily talking books and writers the whole way.

I remember the first time I spoke to David on the phone, thinking he was a 50-year-old man... why, he had to be, to treat an absolute nobody with such generosity and enthusiasm, inviting me to do a signing with the big boys (Ken Bruen, Jason Starr, Allan Guthrie, J.D. Rhoades). It was my first appearance as a novelist; nothing will ever top it.

I remember the 7th (or 8th?) beer we were knocking back later that night when David first pitched me his idea for Damn Near Dead.

I remember thinking: This guy must be crazy. I'm nobody! And he wants me to edit an anthology for him?

I remember all of this and more about David, and I'm heartbroken that I won't be hearing his voice again, or talking books with him again.

But the thing I remember most, right now, at this very moment...

I was on a panel last fall at Bouchercon in Indianapolis. At one point, I joked about Twittering a photo of the audience, and snapped one on my cell phone. The photo is below. Right there in the front row, in the middle, wearing his trademark untucked shirt and jeans, arms folded, is my friend David. Beaming. Laughing at our stupid jokes. Proud of all of us.

Philadelphia After Midnight

One of my favorite images of one of my favorite buildings in Philadelphia. One hundred and six years old this month. Site of the infamous Legionnaires Disease outbreak in '76. Still an awesome place to knock back a highball.

(From the Brightbill Postcard Collection, courtesy the Free Library of Philadelphia.)

Philly Flips Out

Check out this short film (sans audio, alas) featuring a model of downtown Philly that somehow calls to mind both Inception and Transformers.

(Hat tip to Field Notes Philly and Philly Brownstoner for originally posting this gem.)

Random Acts of Comicbookery

I have a few weird, random things out in comic book shops this week. First up: Deadpool: Wade Wilson's War #4, the conclusion of my mini-series with Jason Pearson. If you've missed the previous three issues, you could track down copies... or wait until the collected hardcover this December.

Also out: an 8-page Iron Fist and Misty Knight story in I Am An Avenger #1, with art by Jason Latour.

And finally: two one-page origin stories in Origins of Marvel Comics: X-Men #1. I contributed a page on Cable (with art by Dave Wilkinson) and Hope (with art by Jamie McKelvie). It's a great crash course, if you're a little behind on your X-people.

Everyone's Gone to the Moon(stone)

Two weeks from today, I'll be hanging out and talkin' crime fiction with Dennis Tafoya, author of The Wolves of Fairmount Park and Dope Thief. The fun starts at 7 p.m. at the Moonstone Arts Center (110A South 13th Street, Philadelphia PA 19107, 215-735-9598). There's a good chance alcoholic beverages will be consumed at a nearby watering hole directly following the event. And I'll stick to my long-standing offer: buy one of my books, I'll buy you a beer. Hope to see some of you there.

Jayne Says

The Film Forum in NYC is throwing a three-week heist film festival this October, and tucked away in the middle is an an unofficial David Goodis Heist Novel Mini-Fest: a double feature of both Nightfall and The Burglar (starring Jayne Mansfield and Dan Duryea, above). Both are new 35mm prints. God, I wish Bouchercon weren't the same week.