Collected Miscellany

This is completely un-book related but I wanted to share anyway; especially for any golf fans out there. Yesterday I made my first hole-in-one in my life and as a result my first eagle as well. I was playing a local muni executive type course (only nine holes no par fives) and the groups were moving slow. I was by myself and playing behind a foursome. I came to the par three seventh hole and was trying to get comfortable hitting my seven fairway metal. My first shot was long and leaked right of the green. Since the group ahead was backed up, and there was no one coming behind me, I decided to hit again. I teed up another ball, compensating for my last attempt, and swung again. It felt good and I thought it landed close to the pin. I was quite happy with just getting it close. But when I started walking toward the green I realized I could see the ball. One of the guys from the foursome ahead was walking on the green and he gave me a thumbs up. He said: “I just wanted to see it to believe it.” I then realized that the ball had gone in the cup! A hole-in-one! Granted in was a mulligan shot on a beat up muni during what was basically a practice round by myself (my work tournament is Sunday), but still. The ball went in the cup after only one stroke from the tee box. I will take it anyway I can get it.

An author whose political views align better with my own than the authors noted below is William F. Buckley. His recently released Miles Gone By is on my bedside dresser and I have been enjoying it greatly (full report when finished). For those who enjoy WFB here is an interview with PBS News Hour’s Terence Smith. Smith and Buckley discuss Buckley’s new book, journalism, political discourse, and giving things up – among other things. Here is some insight into how Buckley writes so many books (45 so far):

TERENCE SMITH: Your 45th book? How can anyone write 45 books?

WILLIAM BUCKLEY: Well, the thing to do is to write one every year. I retreat to Switzerland every year and divest myself, to the extent possible, of other distractions, other than skiing —

TERENCE SMITH: Yeah.

WILLIAM BUCKLEY: –and then I write 1,500 words a day, and that, oddly enough, adds up to a book.

So there you have it. Get a place in Switzerland, write 1,500 a day and boom – you’ll have a book . . .

. . . but not exactly in the way I would prefer. News comes from Maud Newton that some well known authors will be visiting Ohio. I will admit to a little jealousy on occasion when big city bloggers get to hobnob with the literati and so was interested to see what these authors might be doing in the Buckeye State.

Well it turns out they are all coming here to campaign against President Bush (or for John Kerry I suppose). Nice. So instead of hearing them discuss literature, writing, and their work I get to hear them pontificate on the evils of the GOP. No thanks. Despite an appreciation for some of the author’s work, I am not really all that interested in their political views. I guess this is one of the perils of living in a crucial swing state. Suddenly fly-over country becomes battleground country.

UPDATE: Since I am getting all political today, let me note this rather hysterical rant by Neal Pollack. Now I can understand his frustration with John Kerry. I think we can all agree he is a terrible campaigner whatever the virtues of his platform. But this is what Pollack thinks is on the line:

Senator Kerry, you are all that stands between us and the theocratic fascism. I don’t care if it diminishes you. You have to stoop to their level. You HAVE to fucking win. You HAVE to. Do you understand? Attack!
Attack!
Attack!
ATTACK!

Yup, theocratic fascism right around the corner. Sure you can’t even put a nativity seen on public property or hang the ten commandments in a public building but theocratic fascism is going to be the result of a very public and open election that citizens – those “easily manipulated farm animals” that Pollack refers to – mistakenly think is about choosing between candidates from different political parties. How about a little less caffeine Neal? Maybe a nice vacation away from it all? And while your at it, perhaps you could do a little historical research into what actual fascism looks like . . .

In case the very existence of this blog and all of the previous posts have not made it clear, I will admit it to the world: I am addicted to books. I have gone past merely liking them or being interested in them or even being an “avid reader” to flat out addiction. I have simply found it impossible to stop buying books. Perhaps not surprisingly, writing about books more often, and as a result receiving free books in the mail, has only made things worse. These days I seem to alternate between despair at ever reading the books in my TBR pile and glee at buying even more books (now the bookcases to hold them).

Well, enough bookcase confessional, let me share with you the fruits of my latest bookstore outing. One type of book that hits my sweet spot is a well designed, succinct, series on an interesting subject. I have begun collecting the American Presidents Series edited by Arthur Schlesinger Jr.; The Modern Library Chronicles Series; and The Penguin Lives Series. I own a dozen or so in each of those series and have read quite a few. There is something about this type of series that just pushes my buttons. Short means I might actually read them, a series which touches on the “anal retentive” aspect of my personality (something cool about a series lined up in numeric order on the shelf), and the interesting subject and author perspective appeals to the reader and writer in me.

Given my weakness, it is no surprise that I added a couple of works to my collection today – both in the Chronicles series – that might be of interest to readers: London : A History by A.N. Wilson. Publishers Weekly certainly paints an interesting picture of this work:

biographer, critic and novelist Wilson (The Victorians; Tolstoy; etc.) expresses a sense of history leaving traces that can be teased out by thoughtful observation, alongside his love for and exasperation with a city that insists on remaking itself. He alternates describing architecture (both extant and long gone) with retelling events that filled the streets and fleshing out cultural and social subtleties, from Roman times through the heyday of Elizabethan, Georgian and Victorian London. He finds fault with city builders in almost every era and rails against the vandals of the past for the lost architecture and physical spaces of the city. His critic’s eye gives his observations a curmudgeonly tone that becomes increasingly political as he approaches the present and excoriates recent policies and projects such as Centre Point and the Millennium Dome. Overall, he evokes a particular energy as the more essential quality of the city and forgives London for its faults. Historically and literary minded visitors will find much in this book to guide them and deepen their understanding.

Doesn’t that sound interesting? I couldn’t just leave that on the shelf now could I?

I also added The Boys’ Crusade : The American Infantry in Northwestern Europe, 1944-1945 by Paul Fussell. Fussell is very well respected in this field and it is a fascinating subject so hard to go wrong on this one.

To insure that I don’t get too serious (like that is possible) I also picked up the fifth and final volume in the Spiderwick Chronicles Series The Wrath of Mulgarath. I came up with a fun way to enjoy these small but playful and artfully illustrated works. I buy the books, and read them (the books are only a little over 150 pages with lots of illustrations), and then give them to a friends son. This way I get to read and enjoy them but get to pass them on to someone more age appropriate so to speak. Gotta love feeding the habit of young book addicts!

So that raps up by book buying binge report for today (I did all that damage on my lunch hour). I am going to try really hard to catch up on some reading before I plunge into book buying again but who knows how I can stay on the wagon . . .

How do you make a noir cocktail? You need some mean streets, world weary cops, nasty hoods and a femme fatale. Throw in some bad weather, a few critical miscalculations, bad luck, bad timing and watch it all unfold as Simon Kernick shoots that cocktail right out of your hand.

THE MURDER EXCHANGE is an old fashioned knuckle sandwich kind of story. It’s told from two points of view. Max Iversson is an ex-mercenary now partners in a security company called Tiger Solutions. When Max sees an opportunity for a fast buck from a sleazeball night club owner, Max jumps in with both feet.

Alternating with Max is DS John Gallan of London’s Metropolitan Police. Gallan has his own problems; his case load includes a couple of unsolved homicides. He’s been demoted and works for an ass kissing boss. His partner is young and not very useful. Gallan’s wife is living with another man and he rarely gets to see his daughter.

Gallan and Iversson are working different sides of the same street. DS Gallan is a dedicated cop, but he can’t touch the real villains, crime kingpins of the Holtz family. Krys Holtz is the sadistic heir to the criminal throne and he doesn’t mind the use of power tools to get his point across.

Max is on the run from an ambush in the novel’s opening scene. He throws in with Elaine who offers him shelter from the storm. Max is impulsive; when he gets the idea to kidnap Krys Holtz, you know things are going to go badly wrong.

Simon Kernick does a good job of balancing the dynamic Max with the sometimes plodding and introspective John Gallan. He also lays out the novel’s theme concisely; Gallan may be slow, but justice will be served. The backstory weaves in the unsolved murder of a paperboy with the mayhem Max and his cohorts have set off. It sets up the resolution of the story and manages to be both credible and satisfying.

Some of the thematic emphasis is overdone. The characters tend to summarize the novel’s ideas in a way that feels intrusive at times. There are predictable elements to the story in part because it feels like a morality play. Most noir fiction reflects a conservative social view, bad behavior is not to be rewarded, but the reader doesn’t want to be reminded of these rules of engagement.

THE MURDER EXCHANGE is a nominee for a Barry award at next month’s Bouchercon confab in Toronto. There’s tough competition from the likes of Val McDermid and Mark Billingham to name a few. Simon Kernick has staked out his turf with this novel. It’s North London in a driving rain in the wee hours of the night, and that’s trouble, just the way we like it.

How do you make a noir cocktail? You need some mean streets, world weary cops, nasty hoods and a femme fatale. Throw in some bad weather, a few critical miscalculations, bad luck, bad timing and watch it all unfold as Simon Kernick shoots that cocktail right out of your hand.

THE MURDER EXCHANGE is an old fashioned knuckle sandwich kind of story. It’s told from two points of view. Max Iversson is an ex-mercenary now partners in a security company called Tiger Solutions. When Max sees an opportunity for a fast buck from a sleazeball night club owner, Max jumps in with both feet.

Alternating with Max is DS John Gallan of London’s Metropolitan Police. Gallan has his own problems; his case load includes a couple of unsolved homicides. He’s been demoted and works for an ass kissing boss. His partner is young and not very useful. Gallan’s wife is living with another man and he rarely gets to see his daughter.

Gallan and Iversson are working different sides of the same street. DS Gallan is a dedicated cop, but he can’t touch the real villains, crime kingpins of the Holtz family. Krys Holtz is the sadistic heir to the criminal throne and he doesn’t mind the use of power tools to get his point across.

Max is on the run from an ambush in the novel’s opening scene. He throws in with Elaine who offers him shelter from the storm. Max is impulsive; when he gets the idea to kidnap Krys Holtz, you know things are going to go badly wrong.

Simon Kernick does a good job of balancing the dynamic Max with the sometimes plodding and introspective John Gallan. He also lays out the novel’s theme concisely; Gallan may be slow, but justice will be served. The backstory weaves in the unsolved murder of a paperboy with the mayhem Max and his cohorts have set off. It sets up the resolution of the story and manages to be both credible and satisfying.

Some of the thematic emphasis is overdone. The characters tend to summarize the novel’s ideas in a way that feels intrusive at times. There are predictable elements to the story in part because it feels like a morality play. Most noir fiction reflects a conservative social view, bad behavior is not to be rewarded, but the reader doesn’t want to be reminded of these rules of engagement.

THE MURDER EXCHANGE is a nominee for a Barry award at next month’s Bouchercon confab in Toronto. There’s tough competition from the likes of Val McDermid and Mark Billingham to name a few. Simon Kernick has staked out his turf with this novel. It’s North London in a driving rain in the wee hours of the night, and that’s trouble, just the way we like it.