A Mind of Winter

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
--from “The Snow Man” by Wallace Stevens (1923)


It’s cold this morning: -10°F. Small icicles form in my mustache just walking to the barn and back. The Jeep doesn’t want to start, and I can’t say I blame it. The hard-packed snow in the dooryard squeaks under my boots. Even with heavy gloves on, my fingertips start to go numb. The dog does his best to get around on three legs—not due to any injury, but because he is alternately keeping his right and left hind foot off the ground. Normally happy to make his rounds of the yard and the forest fringe, this morning he does his business as quick as possible and runs straight back to the porch.

In other words, it’s a damn fine day to stay inside and write. That won’t make me feel any warmer, though. The new novel takes place during winter.

Get Some Thrills

The new issue of Thrilling Detective is up and running with new fiction by Stephen D. Rogers, Kieran Shea, Mark Troy and me. “Pandora” marks the debut of my series character, ex-PI August Hanrahan. Check it out and—if you get a chance—drop a comment here to let me know what you think. Be sure to read the other stories, too. Stephen, Kieran and Mark are writers to be reckoned with. Thrilling Detective is one of the best e-zines out there and it’s, well, a thrill to see my work published there. August is in good company.

Taste the Pulpy Goodness

Beat to a Pulp is a hard-hitting e-zine with the ambitious goal of publishing a new story every week. Check it out here.

Tagged for Random Stuff

Sandra Ruttan tagged me for a "16 Random Things" meme. Why 16? I have no idea. So anyway, here you go...16 random things about me:

1. I'm not a native Mainer. I was born in Utica, New York and didn't move to Maine until 1983.

2. I've never been no Valentino, but I had a girl who lived in Reno. She left me for a trumpet player, but it didn't get me down.

3. My parents met at a mental institution. They both worked there, but still...

4. I figured out The Usual Suspects right away, but never caught on to the fact that the kid in The Sixth Sense was dead until that ohhhhh moment.

5. I learned to play The Simpsons theme on bass to impress my kids. And it didn't.

6. Twenty-two years into the relationship and I still have no frickin' idea what my wife sees in me.

7. The smell of Ivory soap makes me gag. That's because my mother used to make me eat it as a punishment. I don't mean getting your mouth washed out with soap for saying a dirty word or talking back. I mean eating the goddamn soap. She died 32 years ago, but I still can't stand that scent.

8. I flunked my senior year of high school and got my diploma through adult ed. a year later. So I guess was inevitable that I'd get a master's degree in creative writing.

9. When I was a little kid, the only thing I wanted to be other than a writer was a marine biologist.

10. I think William Gay is the greatest living American writer.

11. I started out writing fantasy and horror stories.

12. I hate soda.

13. Instead of writing, I played in the snow with my five year-old today.

14. I hitchhiked from Madison, Maine to Herkimer, New York when I was 17.

15. I'm hooked on Doctor Who. And Freema Agyeman.

16. I'm even more boring in person. Hard to believe, I know.

Well, that's it. Sixteen tidbits about me you were wetting your pants to know. As usual, I'm not going to tag anyone. Play along on your own blog if you want, or feel free to post your list here.

Extra points to anyone who names the author of the lyrics I rippped off in #2 (and no fair looking it up on The Google).

A Sort-Of New Year's Resolution

Richard Stark was the most famous of Donald Westlake's many pen names, but over the last couple of days I've read some blog posts about one of his lesser-known aliases. As Tucker Coe, Westlake wrote a series of five novels about private eye and ex-cop Mitch Tobin. I had never heard of it. But when guys like Ed Gorman, James Reasoner and Kevin Burton Smith all rave about a series, you know it's worth reading.

The Coe books are all out-of-print, but I'm going to do my damndest to track them down. It could take a while if they're expensive or not available through inter-library loan. So that's one of my goals for 2009: finding and reading all five Mitch Tobin novels. I have a better shot at keeping that resolution than the usual bullshit ones about losing weight or being a nicer person.

Celebrating Westlake

I've been thinking about this since last night, and I realize I helped perpetuate our narcissistic culture by blogging about how I felt about Donald Westlake's death. Being depressed about his passing serves no purpose. Instead, we should celebrate the brilliant (and huge) body of work Westlake left behind.

Here's my suggestion: put a copy of one of Westlake's books in the hands of someone who has never read him. Give a friend a Dortmunder novel or a Parker novel (my favorites) or one of the gozillion others he wrote. Help someone discover the joy of reading Donald Westlake. Make it the literary equivalent of an Irish wake. I can't think of a better way to honor such a great writer.

I have a battered, much-read paperback copy of Bank Shot for anyone who leaves a comment asking for it (I'll throw your names in a hat and pick one out Monday). The catch is that you have to be a Westlake virgin...and I'll have to take your word for it.

Donald Westlake

2009 is off to a lousy start. Donald Westlake, one of the greatest and most prolific writers in the crime field, has died of an apparent heart attack. He was 75. I can’t even begin to stress how important his work, whether under his own name or the Richard Stark pseudonym, has been to my writing. The man was a genius. I never met Mr. Westlake, but I miss him already.