Writing in the Dark

The Big Thank You!

2010-11-04T15:45:00.000-07:00

Huge thanks to RT Book Review and their reviewers, for nominating CITY OF DRAGONS for a 2010 Reviewers Choice Award in Historical Mystery!

I'm honored to be in the company of Jeri Westerson, Rhys Bowen, Charles Todd, and Deanne Raybourn, and am looking forward to attending the RT Book Convention in April (my first!)

It's hard to believe that November is here--especially with summer temperatures in Giants-loving, World Series winner San Francisco. Boy, typing those words felt good! ;)

October flew by on a supersonic broomstick. First there was Litcrawl, which was a load of fun--Michelle Gagnon, Simon Wood, Julianne Balmain and Seth Harwood and I all read from our books for "Mystery and Mayhem" at the Mission District Police Station. Wonderful crowd for the festival!

Bouchercon by the Bay was an incredible experience. I am awed every year by the sheer amount of dedication, time, energy and passion that Bcon volunteers bring to this event, and continually amazed at the miracle they make happen. San Francisco was an exceptional Bouchercon--and the City's weather cooperated and played nice.

I was busy from Thursday morning (a guest at the Bouchercon newbie's breakfast) through very late Thursday night (with a very cool Subterranean Noir Manifesto event in North Beach, through Peter Maravelis and the celebrated City Lights Bookstore).

Friday through Sunday zoomed by. I greatly enjoyed moderating a panel on books to movies (with the incomparable Val McDermid and terrific panelists Paul Levine, Derek Haas and Alexandra Sokoloff); was honored to be a panelist on the "San Francisco Noir Panel" moderated by Peter, with fabulous writers Domenic Stansberry, Lisa Lutz, David Corbett, and the Czar of Noir, Eddie Muller, all of whom were also part of the Noir Manifesto evening; met a ton of wonderful readers, spent some time with friends and colleagues and rooted for award-nominated pals; and did all the stuff authors usually do at Bouchercon--except for the bar. I came home before midnight, like a good girl.

Once it was over, I caught the post-Bouchercon virus--and have spent the last few weeks fighting the typical nasty cough, sore throat, etc. etc. I'm almost back to normal. Watched a lot of movies in the meantime--and can't recommend DEAD OF NIGHT, a 1945 classic by the British Ealing Studios, highly enough. Not a noir, just a great horror movie.

In the meantime, the GIANTS won, my galleys of THE CURSE-MAKER arrived, and I've been in the midst of plans for a brand-new (and very content-rich) website, launching soon--complete with prizes and a party!

On November 20th, I'll be stepping away from pressing deadlines to read at the recently-restored Sunset Branch library in San Francisco, with authors Mark Coggins, Deborah Grabien, Michelle Richmond, Mary Germaine Hountalas, and Lois Ungaretti. The theme is "West Side Stories: Mystery and History."

Thanks for reading Writing in the Dark, and stay tuned for updates on the new website ... it's shaping up to be quite a springy fall! :)

Bouchercon Comes to San Francisco!

2010-09-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

In just three short weeks the city of San Francisco will be overrun by people thinking about murder.

In a good way! ;)

Bouchercon, the world's largest crime fiction event, is coming to Hammett's city. Writers, readers, editors, agents, librarians, book collectors, book stores ... it's a giant festival of crime (writing), right here in my home.

If you like mystery--and you live anywhere in the Bay Area--try not to miss it. The cast list is huge, and the events will knock your socks off.

Bouchercon is extra-special to me. My first large conference (in October, 2007, almost a year before my debut book was released) was in Anchorage, Alaska. I've written before about how much that seminal experience taught me; how it focused me on taking the plunge into writing the book that would become CITY OF DRAGONS.

Bouchercon also served as my introduction to the crime fiction family at large ... and being a part of that family is truly the best part of being a writer. I dedicated CITY OF DRAGONS to my initiatory Alaskan experience, and I'm looking forward to another spectacular and special time right here in my own backyard, complete with Bertie, who gets to play Toto. ;)

BTW, Bouchercon is pronounced "Bow-cher-con". I knew it originated with Anthony Boucher, a prolific mystery writer from the 40s who also used to review for our very own San Francisco Chronicle! I used to think his last name was pronounced as if it were French (Boo-shaycon), as in the Rococo painter. However you pronounce it, it adds up to a whole lot of fun. :)

Right now, I'm preparing for the conference--working on the launch for a robust and exciting new website--and working on the next two Miranda Corbie books. And gearing up for THE CURSE-MAKER launch! We just received the final cover yesterday, and it's utterly fabulous--spooky, creepy, intriguing, mysterious, with evocative and subtle allusions to Roman culture. In other words: PERFECT!

In two weeks I'll be participating in San Francisco's LitCrawl, the culminating literary trek of Litquake. I'm in Phase Two with friends Michelle Gagnon, Simon Wood, Julianne Balmain and Seth Harwood. We'll be reading in the Mission District police station in between lineups (no kidding!) so if you're in the area, c'mon by! No need to get arrested first. ;)

At Bouchercon, I'll be participating on two panels, and in the "black envelope" event on Thursday night (about which I'm sworn to silence, but can only say: don't miss it!!)

My panels are fabulous, and I have the thrill and pleasure of participating with good friends and favorite writers:

Thursday at 4:30 PM: "Year of the Locusts: Books to Movies". I'm moderating, and the panel features Ken Bruen, Val McDermid, Paul Levine and Derek Haas.

Friday at 3:00 PM: "No Minor Vices: SF Noir". Peter Maravelis is moderating, with David Corbett, Lisa Lutz, Eddie Muller and Domenic Stansberry.

Is it any wonder I can't wait? :)

Day passes are available for the conference. If you're in San Francisco from October 14th-17th, drop in--you won't be disappointed! Litquake one week, Bouchercon the next--San Francisco is Lit City in October!

Springing Forward in the Fall

2010-09-08T15:11:00.000-07:00

It's funny how time works.

The whole relativity thing may be provable mathematically, but I'm more interested in the emotional effects of how time feels ... you know, how it speeds up and slows down all at once, depending on what you're doing--and sometimes who you're doing it with.

The last couple of months have gone by quickly from the vantage point of today ... I spent most of the summer writing the sequel to CITY OF DRAGONS--tentative title is CITY OF SPIDERS--which will be out next year in the late summer or early fall. And while I was writing it--while I was following Miranda through some suspenseful and harrowing events--time was excruciatingly slow.

But not really.

Then came a week of copy editing for THE CURSE-MAKER, which is releasing February 1st, 2011. Now, I'm not a huge fan of the copy editing process, so it seemed much longer than a week. And while the non-writer part of my brain thinks February is a comfortable few months away (all those holidays, after all!), the writer part of my brain (which takes up more space) is about to panic. ;)

So time isn't just relative between people ... it's relative within ourselves. But hey, this is Writing in the Dark, not metaphysics, so I'm gonna try not to think about it too hard.

What is coming up is Bouchercon, and this year I get to stay home. Yup, it's coming to San Francisco, which means no jet lag for me, though I still won't get to stay up as late as I'd like because I've got to get myself back home and don't have the luxury of just rolling into a hotel room. This year will be special, as all parties in San Francisco are!

Before B'con is the big lollapalooza lit festival our City likes to throw: Litquake! This year I'm part of LitCrawl, which means I get to hang out with wonderful crime writing friends and read from CITY OF DRAGONS inside an old police station. This qualifies as a cool and wholly unexpected perq of being a writer.

We're also in the midst of designing a bigger and better website, of which Writing in the Dark will be an integral part. It's based on the stuff I like to do when I'm on the web--i.e. have fun--so it's going to be more interactive and offer more historical extras to look at, listen to and watch. It also means I'm making it a resolution to update my blog more frequently, even if I have to act out the title!

So cool stuff is coming up. Seeing THE CURSE-MAKER in print will be a dream come true, as Arcturus and Co. move to Thomas Dunne/Minotaur. Lots of research went into this one (research spent in Bath, England). And this series is more light-hearted than Miranda, so it complements what will be coming out in CITY OF SPIDERS.

I'm working on the next books--and sketching out plans for a contemporary, stand-alone thriller. If I can squeeze in the time, I may write a short story or two. The experience of having "Children's Day"--my CITY OF DRAGONS prequel--published in FIRST THRILLS this summer was one of the major thrills of my life.

I'll be back soon, writing about noir or about adventures in research, and in the meantime, want to thank YOU for reading, and send thanks to all those readers who brought a blog award to Writing in the Dark. Thanks so much for your support!

Rip van Who?

2010-06-22T18:52:00.000-07:00

You know, I think Washington Irving was on to something about Rip Van Winkle.

Except in my version of the story, I fly to New York in April to attend my first Edgar Awards Banquet (it was amazing); catch a horrendous case of bronchitis on the flight home (or more likely on the way there, since I was seated in front of a poor, coughing teenager); am out of commission for a full two weeks; and then put my head down and ...

WRITE. No sleeping, not for this Winkle.

As we speak, I'm nearing the conclusion of CITY OF SPIDERS--the sequel to CITY OF DRAGONS. I hoped to have it finish much earlier, but this has been an extremely challenging year in many ways, even for a double Gemini with Multi-Tasking as my middle name. Somewhere in June, I even celebrated a birthday ... like van Winkle, I emerge from my blogless state older and a little confused.

From you, dear blog readers, I have been absent in the spring ... but I hope you forgive me. :) As soon as CITY OF SPIDERS is finished, my goal is to wax weekly at Writing in the Dark!

Now, today itself is of some note: FIRST THRILLS, the International Thriller Writers anthology featuring just a ton of wonderful authors, all of whom I'm honored to be published with--is released! My Miranda Corbie short story "Children's Day" is included, and takes place nearly a year before CITY OF DRAGONS--the entire story is set during the World's Fair on Treasure Island.

I was also very lucky to be interviewed by the San Francisco Examiner, and that article also came out today! So ... between the solstice, the launch of FIRST THRILLS, and the Examiner, I decided to take a novel writing evening off. ;)

I'll also be taking a weekend off to fly back to New York for Thrillerfest in just a couple of weeks! And soon ... very soon, I hope ... CITY OF SPIDERS will, at last, be finished.

THEN I sleep ... and start writing again. :)

Thanks again for reading, and if you're up New York way for Thrillerfest, I hope you stop by to say hello! :)

Springing Forward

2010-04-11T15:07:00.000-07:00

T.S. Eliot may have characterized April as the cruelest month, but personally, I think he just needed a vacation. Such a pessimist ... without even the excuse of an IRS deadline. ;)

So ... I can't believe spring is already here ... we were just in the throes of winter!

Last time I posted, I was on my way to Los Angeles and Left Coast Crime ... which was a fabulous conference, as it always is, despite a nasty cold I developed a couple of days before the flight.

Speaking of flight, what a thrill it was to ride Angel's Flight and eat at China Cafe (rumored to be Marlowe's old hangout for chop suey) with friends and fabulous writers Keith Raffel and Bill Cameron. And to see Rebecca Cantrell and Rita Lakin win awards (for the Bruce Alexander and Lefty, respectively). And to participate on a Pulp Fiction panel with some great writers, among them Eric Beetner, author of ONE TOO MANY BLOWS TO THE HEAD, who also very generously filmed a candid video interview with me for Spinetingler Magazine. Another video, this one filmed by JohnRay Gutierrez of Kepler's in a film noir style, was also a ton of fun--you can check it out below.

While at LCC, I signed at the venerable Book Soup on the Sunset Strip, had a chance to at least say hi to a lot of friends like the delightful and talented writer Holly West, and all in all, it was the best time I've ever had with a cold. :)

Just a little later in March, I flew to Portland and the Public Library Association Conference. This was quite an event--I loved meeting librarians from all over the country, had a chance to chat with friend Wilda Williams from Library Journal, and generally enjoyed a fabulous time signing copies of CITY OF DRAGONS and giving them away. I only wish we hadn't run out in such a short time!

Same evening I gave a reading and signing at Powell's in Beaverton. If you haven't been to a Powell's, make it an ambition. These giant independent bookstores are monuments to literacy and the great reading public of Portland, and it was an honor to sign there.

Throughout my Portland adventure, I palled around with stellar author and friend Bill Cameron. Bill lives in Portland, and I'm eagerly awaiting his next book, DAY ONE, a hot and riveting thriller from a superb writer. Don't miss it!

On April 1st, I experienced the rare pleasure of reading CITY OF DRAGONS in a Chinatown bar. It was part of Subterranean Noir, a Litquake/City Lights event in which the brilliant Edgar-winning author Domenic Stansberry and I had a chance to showcase our work in the basement of one of Chinatown's most venerable "joints" ... and luckily for us, hardboiled writer Mark Coggins (THE BIG WAKEUP), who is not only a great writer, but a great photographer, was on hand to shoot some film. You can read about it in Mark's blog on The Huffington Post.

I'll be heading back to the City of Angels in a couple of weeks for the LA Times Festival of the Book, where I'll be signing with Mysterious Galaxy and The Mystery Bookstore. A few days later, it's NYC and the Edgars, my first time attending the "Oscars" of the mystery-writing world.

But what I've really been doing--and will be doing for the next couple of months--is writing. I'm deep into the sequel of CITY OF DRAGONS--working title is CITY OF SPIDERS--and am racing toward my deadline and the finish line.

In other news, the audio version of CITY OF DRAGONS is now available, and I was thrilled and delighted to see the hardcover reach #2 on the IMBA Bestsellers list for February--and a heartfelt thank you to all the readers, bloggers, librarians, booksellers and friends and colleagues who made that happen! I was also privileged and honored by a recent review in the San Francisco Chronicle.

Have a wonderful April--and thanks for reading!

City of Dragons Tour - on the way to LCC!

2010-03-10T15:48:00.000-08:00

So last we met, I was in San Diego. Now I'm about to leave for Los Angeles and Left Coast Crime.

What happened??

Well, I've discovered a new law of physics. Time bends when you're on the road, true ... but when you get home--and try to continue a book tour from your own sweet domicile--time really messes with your head. It's also more tiring by far ... because you're having to juggle your "normal" life (in my case, a day job, taking care of springer spaniel Bertie, buying toothpaste, etc.) with your "writer" life (driving all over to events and signing your book).

In short, everything snuck up on me, and I still haven't really caught up from the long distance part of the CITY OF DRAGONS march. But I did download some wonderful photos of the desert, and will post them soon ... I promise. In the meantime, here's a recap, from the middle of February to now:

Mysterious Galaxy is a wonderful store--known as the Cheers of the mystery world and for good reason! I had a blast hanging out with Patrick and Michael, and was sorry to leave ... but can't wait to return. They're the best!!!

The next day (February 13th) we made a beautiful and really incredible drive across I-8, skimming along the US/Mexico border through California and southern Arizona. The geographic landscape was jaw-dropping. Craggy, desert mountains with piles of giant reddish boulders that looked like some gargantuan god piled them up to skim along a now-dead lake ... I yelped when I saw my first saguaro cactus, multiple arms stretching toward the sun. Ocotillo too, looking like desert-dancing seaweed against the dry, vulnerable earth. I fell in love with the desert on this ride, and can't wait to go back.

We stopped for lunch in Yuma, easily imagining either Glenn Ford or Russell Crowe alongside the still prominent train that runs right through the town ... but the only thing criminal we found was the sinfully delicious Mexican food at Tacos Mi Rancho. Truly--the best, the very best, Mexican food I've had anywhere--including Texas. Yuma, I take off my hat to you!

A bit later, we stopped at Dateland, Arizona, which is a wonderful little oasis that serves fresh date milkshakes and sells all kinds of dates. A grove--with grapefruit trees in front--looms in the distance over the diner and gift shop. It's one of those old-fashioned tourist places that are sadly disappearing, getting swallowed up in homogenized conglomerates disguising themselves as mom and pops (Starbucks, anybody?). We loved it! (and the milkshake was delicious).

We turned north on a state highway, and finally made it into Scottsdale as the sun was setting. A beautiful place, and the land is so ... delicate. And beautiful. And gentle, too, at least in winter.

Next morning, we had a great breakfast at a place called Butterfields, and then to a signing and Valentine's Day party at the Poisoned Pen! I am a big, big fan of Barbara and Rob, and it was an honor to be there ... and an honor for CITY OF DRAGONS to make four of their "pick" lists, including the Hardboiled Club. I loved meeting everyone, and had a grand time, followed by dinner at a fabulous pizza place just down the street.

The next morning we were off again, this time along I-10 to LA. Not as dramatically beautiful, but lovely nevertheless, and a mid-day stop in the fascinating little waterhole known as Quartzite, Arizona, is worthy of its own post. We also rested for a bit at the I-10 equivalent of Dateland, called the Chiriaco Summit--which houses not only a vintage-style diner, shop and tiny post office, but a George Patton museum.

We finally made it to Culver City, our home away from home, and stayed in the Clark Gable suite at the Culver Hotel, which was a real treat. Gable must have helped sprinkle sleep dust, because we woke relatively refreshed, and ready for an equally long drive back to San Francisco up 101.

Since arriving home, I've been on the road around the Bay Area, doing upwards of two signings a week, plus signing stock at Barnes and Noble ... and the tour isn't over. Tomorrow I fly to Left Coast Crime ... which is where I came in. :)

I'm wrestling a cold right now, but plan to prop myself up on tea, Vitamin C and adrenalin, at least long enough to have a great time on a panel tomorrow afternoon and at a reading/signing at Book Soup tomorrow evening.

Thanks for reading -- and hope to see you somewhere along the journey! :)

City of Dragons - City of Angels Tour!

2010-02-12T16:56:00.000-08:00

Today I'm blogging from San Diego, where I'm looking forward to a signing at the fabulous Mysterious Galaxy!

Time is whizzing by, calendar pages flipping in a black and white montage ... it seems like just yesterday (well, OK, the day before the day before yesterday) that we drove to LA.

The drive down was beautiful (not many rain showers, despite prediction of thunder and hail), and we enjoyed a requisite stop for caffeine rejuvenation in Salinas for breakfast and spit pea soup rejuvenation at Andersen's Pea Soup restaurant in Buellton, outside Solvang.

BTW--danish is Solvang is really Danish--and utterly delightful. One of the pleasures of driving down Highway 101, amid the stately mission bells along the old El Camino Real.

We stayed at the Culver Hotel--a queen among hostelries, and right next to the Culver Studios (formerly RKO, Selznick and part of MGM). Who wouldn't want to stay in a beautifully refurbished historic hotel, with a great bar, food menu and the magic ambiance of former guests like Clark Gable and Judy Garland? (The Culver Studio's main building is the columned mansion seen in the Selznick opening credits of Gone With the Wind).

On Wednesday, we drove to South Pasadena and Book 'Em Mysteries, where we met Jean, the indefatigable and fabulous Chair of the upcoming Left Coast Crime conference, and signed copies of City of Dragons. Afterward a great visit and some good Mexican food across the street, it was onward to Pasadena and Vroman's, where I got all goose-bumply seeing City on the IndieNext Wall and the New and Noteworthy front table!

Next, we drove to our "neighborhood" Barnes and Noble in Marina del Rey (close to Culver City) and signed stock. And from there, I enjoyed the rather surreal experience of seeing my book on the New Arrivals table at the gigantic theme-park like Barnes and Noble in The Grove, near the Farmer's Market and the Miracle Mile in Los Angeles. Posters advertising upcoming signings for Raquel Welch and Melissa Rivers, etc. were all over the place, and the whole thing was, well ... very Hollywood ... in a retail Disneyland sort of way. ;)

Thursday was wonderful--I had a signing at Mysteries to Die For, in lovely Thousand Oaks, and seeing Alan at this wonderful store is always a treat! Another treat was the tea room/cafe/chocolatier across the street--Chocolatine. Owned and operated by French chef Hugo, this was some of the best quiche -- and best chocolate! -- I've ever had. If you're ever in Thousand Oaks, shop at Alan's and try the chocolate! :)

Later in the evening, we capped off the LA tour with a heartwarming event at the marvelous Mystery Bookstore!! I love the staff--Linda, Bobby, Ingrid and Emily--and friends came out to officially welcome me to the City of Angels. Angels themselves (though of the crime fiction writing devilish kind), Brett Battles, Sue Ann Jaffarian, Eric Stone and Holly West reminded me why this is the best business to be in -- it's the company you keep! :) Thanks, guys!!

This morning, we headed down to San Diego, stopping at a just reopened very swanky restaurant in Oceanside called The Flying Bridge. And when I say swanky, I mean swanky--the architecture looks like Frank, Dean and Sammy could've eaten lunch here on the way to the track at Del Mar.

The food was delicious, the service superb (ask for Summer--she's a great waitress!) and all in all, I highly recommend it.

So that's the LA rap-up--next blog will be our San Diego sojourn and next stop will be Scottsdale and the fabulous Poisoned Pen bookstore! Thanks for reading!

City of Dragons Tour - The Great Northwest!

2010-02-09T17:00:00.000-08:00

So for the first leg of the tour, we flew to Seattle the morning after the M is for Mystery launch party, and relished being in my home state at Seattle's finest bookstore, Seattle Mystery Bookshop, with the wonderful and awesome Fran and JB! I met some folks, signed books, hung out with the gang, blogged, listened to the soundtrack for City of Dragons and had lunch with a friend in Seattle's oldest bar. Stayed at the Sleep Inn in SeaTac (and wished I actually could), but it was another early morning and a drive to Portland the next day.

Along the beautiful I-5, we stopped in Olympia to thank Linda Dewberry of Whodunit Books for nominating City of Dragons for the IndieNext list! We also enjoyed a great lunch next door at Olympia's finest sandwich shop.

And I've gotta say ... as a native Washingtonian, I'm very proud of my state's hospitality. All along I-5, you come upon rest stops with highway signs advertising "free coffee." Charities get donations of coffees, cookies (sometimes cupcakes and donuts) and offer them to travelers, who then donate cash. It's a wonderful system. :)

In Portland, we stayed at an Arts and Crafts guest house in the Hawthorne District, close to Murder by the Book. I love this store! Informative, friendly, wonderful, they--like Seattle Mystery Bookshop--are a must on any northwest tour.

Before the signing, we caught dinner at a cool restaurant called Belly Timber that also had the advantage of being directly across the street (and it was raining--hard!). Tried some lovely fried chickpeas as an appetizer, and now I'm addicted. Seriously, if you're ever there, try 'em--they're even better than popcorn!

Dear, dear friend and brilliant writer Bill Cameron joined us at dinner and showed us how to cross a rainy and dark Portland street like a native. We had a good turnout for the Murder by the Book event, including the wonderful Theresa Bergen, ITW member and writer, who wrote a great recap for Reading Local. I got the chance to pass around ephemera and answer a lot of interesting questions and do a little reading. And of course--had a lot of fun!!

The next morning, we left for Seattle, eating lunch at a seafood cafe along the way (halibut tacos--yum!). We made good time--stopping for our prerequisite I-5 coffee--and squeezed in fifteen minutes of childhood thrills before heading to the rent car center and airport. :)

I was born in Tacoma and lived there until I was seven, and have very fond memories of Brown and Haley--makers of the famous Almond Roca. And my mom used to take me to the factory outlet store ... which is still there!

The building is adorable, and we found out that it was originally built for the 1962 Seattle World's Fair, then transported to the factory when the fair ended. So my love of World's Fairs really did start early ... in person at Expo '67 and home in Tacoma with Brown and Haley!

The next leg of the tour takes me down to Los Angeles and points south ... to Mysteries to Die For, Book 'Em Mysteries, The Mystery Bookstore, Mysterious Galaxy and Poisoned Pen! I'll be blogging from the road. As always --- thanks for reading!

City of Dragons Launch!

2010-02-08T14:52:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday, February 2nd, was one of the most amazing moments of my life.

City of Dragons launched, released into bookstores and libraries and readers' hands ... despite the fact that at the time, it was blacklisted from Amazon, along with all other Macmillan titles.

But it didn't matter.

All the hopes, all the dreams, all the wishing and wanting and waiting. It coalesced into magic at my favorite bookstore, M is for Mystery.

So what are the ingredients for a once-in-a-lifetime moment that makes you incredibly touched and proud and feel like George Bailey at the end of It's A Wonderful Life?

Well, Chinese food of all kinds ... bourbon and sake and drinks served by two of the most talented bartenders in the world -- Edgar nominee Sophie Littlefield and Julie Goodson-Lawes ... goodie packs in Chinese New Year envelopes, complete with packs of candy cigarettes and party poppers ... Doll, the official mascot of Noir City, dressed in a fedora ... champagne toast ... and even a surprise birthday cake for Miranda.

And, of course, the most important ingredient: friends, starting with the amazing M is for Mystery staff: Pam, Jen, Anne, Charlotte, and of course Ed Kaufman. I was truly, truly humbled, and the warmth and love and memory of this special launch into the major leagues will always be a highlight of my life. :)

Books are like children ... it takes a village to raise them. And City of Dragons, Miranda and I are incredibly blessed and lucky to have the village--the family--that we do!!

One Week Countdown ...

2010-01-26T16:11:00.000-08:00

I looked around and it was January.

Not New Year's Day, mind you, I remember that, even with the champagne. And I started the New Year off like everyone does ... full of plans and resolutions, one of which was to blog more often! ;)

I hope you forgive me. The whirlwind that has been leading up to the official launch of City of Dragons has been whirling ever faster, and in between book tour preparations and everything else I'm also going on a virtual blog tour and hanging out with friends--so I actually have been blogging. You can catch me on Working Stiffs and the Femmes Fatales ... and Notes from the Handbasket, Type M for Murder, The Rap Sheet, Meanderings and Musings, Pens Fatales, The Kill Zone, The Page 69 Test, My Book, My Movie, Coffee with a Canine, Detectives Beyond Borders and Jen's Book Thoughts are all upcoming!

So how do I feel, now that City of Dragons is only seven days away? Well, a little like Dorothy walking into technicolor. I've been stunned by the reception, and am immeasurably grateful for the all the support from this incredible and generous community. I'm trying to keep centered--that's what my wonderful agent tells me to do, and she's always right--but it's difficult. I alternate between absolute exhilaration and fear and anxiety, with gratitude and acknowledgment of my own extreme good fortune as the constants. :)

I'm looking forward to the book tour, which is taking me to Seattle, Portland, Thousand Oaks, Los Angeles, San Diego and Scottsdale ... I only wish I could venture farther. My ultimate goal is to be able to support myself through my writing, and if that day gets here, zipping all over and meeting wonderful readers is part of the plan! And I'm popping vitamin C and trying to get some rest, so I can withstand the rigors of travel in the rainy season. I hope to meet some Writing in the Dark readers along the way.

And like every other crime fiction reader and writer, I am deeply saddened by the loss of Robert B. Parker. His blurb for City of Dragons was an incredible act of generosity--a trait he was well-known for. I was looking forward to thanking him in person--I plan to be in Boston in July. Instead, I joined many voices in a heartfelt tribute on The Rap Sheet. As we head into the hurly-burly of actual publication, I feel like Miranda has Spenser's hand on her shoulder.

So, my friends, once more unto the breach, to use a line that was probably corny when Shakespeare wrote it. We write, we revise, we copy edit, we proof and proof and proof ... and, eventually, we let it fly, hoping paper-thin wings can withstand the weather, hoping it reaches readers who will love it and cherish it and make it their own, make it something we could never imagine.

Letting go is every author's challenge and every author's dream ... and in just a week, it will happen to City of Dragons.

Thanks for being a part of it!!

Bay City Holiday

2009-12-22T00:01:00.000-08:00

I know San Francisco is supposed to be perennially shrouded in fog--and we do get quite a bit of the atmospheric pea soup variety--but sometimes it's just plain mild and sunny, even in December. Those are the days when you remember you're in California. :)

During the holidays, there's an ice rink in Union Square, smack dab in the middle of the downtown shopping district ... right next to lit palm trees. And cable cars and the vintage streetcars that travel down Market are decked out in wreathes and garland ... and the rotating star at the top of the Sir Francis Drake is just a little extra bright.

I had occasion to go downtown on Saturday--a visit to Melissa at Secret Agent Salon, the most fabulous stylist and team in the Bay Area--and thought I'd share some photos of what San Francisco is like during the holiday season.

Chinatown, as you can see, was thronged with shoppers, bargain-hunting in the small stores that line Grant and California. Gold garlands added a festive touch to the always festive lantern street lights, while banners and lanterns make every day a holiday when you shop in Chinatown.

Still ... atmosphere reins. The Li Po bar, like most of its brethren, opens early and closes late. And Sam Wo--one of my favorite places to eat, with its no-frills set-up, huge and delicious portions, cheap prices and dumbwaiter to deliver the food upstairs--is always quintessential Chinatown, as downscale as the Empress of China is upscale. (BTW, the Empress had a delicious drink of the same name, with Midori liqueur. Tell 'em I sent you. ;) ).

Not too many blocks away is Union Square, Christmas Tree and the Menorah keeping company with the Dewey Monument (the column), and the famous heart painted by Tony Bennett for our Hearts of San Francisco city-wide fund-raising exhibit a few years ago.

I was in Union Square for the ceremony when this particular heart was dedicated ... and had a chance to both hear Mr. Bennett croon a few notes of you-know-what song, and actually got to thank him for the years of artistry and enjoyment he's given me and millions of other fans around the globe. Tony may have been born in New York, but he's a San Franciscan, through and through. :)

Later in the evening--the sun sets early this time of year, particularly in the downtown canyons--I had a chance to eat at John's Grill, another favorite restaurant, and celebrated home of The Maltese Falcon. I indulged in a Bloody Brigid--their signature drink, named after Hammett's femme fatale, of course--and a Jack LaLanne Salad. I grew up with "The Godfather of Fitness", and he's still in good shape--and recently celebrated his 95th birthday at John's.

John's--which is next to one of my favorite buildings in the city, the stately Flood Building, where Hammett worked as a Pinkerton (I worked in it during one summer, decidedly not as a Pinkerton)--has a cameo in CITY OF DRAGONS. A more prominent role in the book is played by the Pickwick Hotel, which dominates the corner of Mission and 5th, directly across the street from the Old Mint.

The Pickwick is mentioned in The Maltese Falcon, and my own history with it goes back to a fondly-remembered 8th grade trip. :)

Market Street is busy this time of year ... it boasts lighted snow flakes on every corner, and street musicians share the street with the homeless.

San Francisco's not a perfect city, and it can be a mean and dangerous place ... even more so than in 1940. But there is something about the place we call The City that is timeless, that transcends its politics, its Mayors, its debauchery and its decadence.

She's a grand old dame ... and a profound inspiration. I'm lucky to be able to spend the holidays with her! :)

May you and yours have a joyous and festive season ... and thanks for reading Writing in the Dark! Noir City is just around the corner ...

***

I also wanted to share some really wonderful news: CITY OF DRAGONS is an Indie Next Pick for February, and just received a starred review from Publishers Weekly! I'm very, very grateful ... and proud that the subtitle is "A San Francisco Mystery." :)

I'm also giving away a scarce signed advanced reading copy of CITY OF DRAGONS, along with a gift basket from Chinatown. Just go to my website and sign up for my newsletter to be entered ... the drawing will be at the end of December!

Gratitude

2009-11-24T00:01:00.000-08:00

I seem to be posting from holiday to holiday these days. Partially from being behind (thanks to the flu) partially because life is whizzing by in a blur and there's a lot on all my myriad to-do lists.

Hard to believe it's only three months until CITY OF DRAGONS is out. And still videos and podcasts to come!

As for me, I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving. Whether or not I lose my noir street cred and sound like a sap, here goes ... I am extraordinarily thankful and blessed to have a lot of wonderful people in my life.

To have both my dear parents. To have a wonderful family. To have a circle of amazing friends, many of them incredibly talented authors, whether of books or blogs or book reviews. To be blessed with the best agent and agent team, the most supportive, wonderful editor and publishing team. To have my books published in a very tough economic climate and get a chance to literally see my dreams come true.

See? I told you I was going to be sappy. ;)

But seriously, I am thankful for so many things, and one day just doesn't begin to cover them all. Right now, I'm looking at a gorgeous sunset over the Pacific Ocean. And I'm thankful for that, too.

Wherever you are, dear reader--and I hope it's someplace warm and safe--I hope you have a joyous week ahead, whether or not Thanksgiving is part of this month's calendar. Thanks for reading, and see you soon!

All Hallows' Eve

2009-10-31T18:58:00.000-07:00

As I write this, my neighborhood is full of ghoulies and ghosties and short-leggedy beasties, all scrambling for candy. Dressed in hodge-podge homemade costumes and store-bought accessories, kids of all ages revel in Halloween and the celebration of social trust it represents. I do, too. :) All Hallows' Eve is a magical night ...

It was just three years ago, on a Halloween night in 2006, when I finished the sequel to NOX DORMIENDA. I had neither a publisher nor representation, and I wasn't at all sure I would be able to find either. But I had to finish MALEDICTUS (Cursed), had to finish a story that was wrapped up, in a way, with Halloween. A story dealing with curses, with ghosts, with necromancers, and with violations of that social compact that underlies our modern holiday.

Sure, it takes place two thousand plus years ago, nine months after the events of NOX DORMIENDA -- in October, 84 A.D. But it's a Halloween type of mystery, and a continuation of Roman Noir, all the same.

It's been quite a three years. NOX was published, won the Bruce Alexander Award for best historical mystery, was nominated for a Macavity, and will be published in Italy and Greece. My second series, set in 1940 San Francisco, is going to be published by Thomas Dunne/Minotaur starting with CITY OF DRAGONS on February 2, 2010. A short story prequel to CITY OF DRAGONS will be in FIRST THRILLS, an upcoming International Thriller Writers anthology featuring bestselling and emerging authors, publishing in June of next year by Tor ... my story "Children's Day" will be in print among writers whose work I venerate.

And now ... the Arcturus Series will continue! My Halloween book, finished three years ago tonight, will be published by Thomas Dunne/Minotaur. We're calling it CURSED, and hoping that it does NOT live up to its name. ;)

We celebrated at Bouchercon, this and other good news ... CITY OF DRAGONS will be available through all three major book clubs (Mystery Guild alternate selection; Book of the Month, Quality Paperback Book Club). We gathered as a community of mystery readers and writers and publishers and media, and in that gathering I celebrated career things, personal things, family things, mostly the feeling of being very, very blessed in many ways. I count those blessings every day.

And on Halloween ... even with a lingering cough from a bout of bronchitis ... I like to spread those blessings around. :) Have a safe, blessed, and wonderful All Hallows' Eve ... and thanks for reading Writing in the Dark!

Bouchercon Countdown!

2009-09-23T18:46:00.000-07:00

In about three weeks I'll be on the way to Indianapolis and my third Bouchercon. I can't wait!

CITY OF DRAGONS got the push off from goal to paper after my first Bouchercon in Anchorage, in 2007. I now have the thrill of going to my third Bouchercon, knowing the book will be coming out February 2nd from Thomas Dunne/Minotaur Books, and that it is dedicated to my family and the friends I met in Anchorage.

It's been quite a journey. :)

In the meantime, I've been busy. I'm involved in several events at the PPWebCon (first ever virtual crime fiction convention!), and have a lot of work to do before leaving for Indianapolis. I just concluded a two part interview with Jen Forbus on the fabulous Jen's Book Thoughts. I also enjoyed an interview with thriller writer Kathy-Diane Reveille on her wonderful Behind the Books blog. I've got a post for the always interesting WordNerd coming up, and I just wrote a Noir Bar review on one of my favorite film noirs--In a Lonely Place--for Pop Syndicate.

I've also released the trailer for CITY OF DRAGONS ... and am proud to say that the footage is genuine 1940 San Francisco film, in color.

I hope you like it ... and hope to see you at one or more of my stops along the way to Bouchercon ... and maybe even at the conference itself. Thanks for reading Writing in the Dark!

Time is Relative ...

2009-09-01T16:10:00.000-07:00

Can you believe August is over, pfft, gone? Here we are, September 1st, suffering all the endless and aged puns on back to school. Back to Cool? School Daze? Ouch. Where's Lulu when you need her?

I've been absent ... not, with apologies to Shakespeare, in the spring ... but throughout the month of August. Unfortunately--in the middle of the month, and while I was in the middle of setting up my new computer and reorganizing the messy but beloved room I write in--I can't call it a home office, that gives me hives--I came down with what the doctor thought was an upper respiratory infection. It soon migrated to my throat and probably became strep, after which he doused me in antibiotics and I emerged, Lazarus-like, about ten days later.

That took care of the middle of the month. Fortunately, my mom was staying with me on a visit, and she took care of me. My mother's chicken soup is at least as salubrious as antibiotics.

As soon as I became ambulatory, I plunged into going over copy edits for CITY OF DRAGONS. I just finished the process a few days ago, and that takes me to the end of the month. See what I mean? I've had Augusts that crawled by, but this one really flew.

Now I'm getting ready for Bouchercon in October (my panel is Saturday) and preparing to launch the book trailer video for CITY OF DRAGONS next week. And finishing up a much-delayed Noir Bar article for Pop Syndicate, and getting ready for an interview on one of my favorite blogs, Jen's Book Thoughts, and working on about a thousand other things--videos, podcasts, website stuff, articles, the Poisoned Pen Virtual Conference on October 24th--and oh, yeah--the CITY OF DRAGONS sequel. The working title is COUNTRY OF SPIDERS.

I'll be back next week with more news ... and maybe my mom's chicken soup recipe. ;) In the meantime, stay safe--and thanks for reading!

Back to the Future

2009-08-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

It's been crazier than usual--and it's usually crazy! :) All good stuff--just a lot of it! We have so many cool plans for the website that require a certain mastery of technology and video software, I feel like I've enrolled in an intensive video-editing course.

We're working on the book trailer for CITY OF DRAGONS, and will be launching a cool web map of San Francisco highlighting places mentioned in the book -- locations we'll explore in more detail through videos. I'll also be launching a series of podcasts about some of the historical and thematic aspects to the novel.

All this by way of saying that I'm late to the gate with Writing in the Dark ... but if I'm tardy, at least you'll know where I am. ;)

Friday, though, I was somewhere unexpected. And fun! I ventured out of foggy San Francisco to the 95+ degree weather of Davis (home of U.C. Davis and some of the best farm produce in California).

The occasion? An invitation to speak to the national conference of the National Junior Classical League. About 1,300 junior and senior high school students from around the country converged at the university for a full week of colloquia, talks, and presentations, culminating in an outdoor Roman banquet that was strictly BYOT--Bring Your Own Toga.

These are some of the brightest young people you'll meet anywhere. They all share a love of antiquity, history, literature. The NJCL was established in 1936--the '30s saw a big resurgence in fascination with the ancient world, not all of it sanguinary (i.e. Mussolini). It's now the largest classical organization in the world.

And given the daunting problems facing our ever-shrinking, ever-warming little planet, meeting these young men and women and their tireless, devoted teachers certainly made me feel more optimistic about the future. I could insert any number of quotes about being doomed to repeat what we don't learn from the past, but hey--we already know that.

I had a great time. And knowing that a writer I admire tremendously--Steven Saylor--spoke to the kids earlier in the week made it all that more special for me.

To top off the day in the sun, we returned via the Napa-Sonoma Highway to pick up the dog at his B&B. Yeah, I know, you're thinking "California!" But if you can let your dog romp outside and have a great time in the (wine) country, why not? And the B&B owners are a wonderful French couple who take care the very best care of your dogs--but still let them be dogs.

Anyway, across the street and just down the road from Bertie's vacation getaway, we spotted a new/old diner. An ancient landmark drive-in hamburger place closed down about a year ago, and finally--even in the middle of The Recession--a new business opened up in the same spot.

And we found ...

The best hamburgers in California. I'm talking absolute bliss, and I don't eat much beef. The place is called the Fremont Diner, and it's like comfort food except gourmet and healthy. I know that doesn't sound possible, but honestly--what else can you call a fried pie with no sugar added organic apricot filling? Or grass-fed Napa Valley beef burgers? Or milkshakes thicker than the blush on a Zinfadel grape?

To top off the feeling of nirvana, they have a wonderful sense of design and simplicity in the interior, preserving the 30s/40s feel, sell homemade jam (Santa Rosa plum!), and have two sweet senior dogs who wander loose, accompany you to your car, and beg politely for food.

It was so perfect that I'm beginning to wonder if it really does exist. Fortunately, I found evidence that they do on Facebook. So ... if you're up in wine country, between Sonoma and Napa, and you get lost along the Carneros Highway ... don't worry. It's not the Twilight Zone--it's the Fremont Diner!

We're thinking of letting Bertie take more vacations ...

Until next time ... thanks for reading! :)

Happy Birthday

2009-07-18T13:09:00.000-07:00

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;

Back in high school when I first read these lines I was struck by the poet's confidence in words. His cocky self-assurance that the gift of a few words will grant a more everlasting memorial than, say, the graveyard called the Pyramids or the love note known as the Taj Mahal.

But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.

Of course, that was the poet's persona--a brashly confident young man who, like many a poet before and since, used metaphors and rhythm and rhyming couplets to woo his lover of choice.

When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.

The living record of memory. Something all authors contend with, have struggled with, and it's a memory that has only become shorter and more overloaded with each passing century, decade, year, month. The young man who wrote this sonnet bravely wielded pen like sword against the aggregate forces of time and anonymity, seeking solace in the pursuit of affection and immortality in his attempt to win it.

'Gainst death, and all oblivious enmity Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room Even in the eyes of all posterity That wear this world out to the ending doom.

"Choose me," he whispers, "and you will live forever." Such is the potency of words; such is the power of poetry.

Funny thing is, the young man who wrote this had no idea that 400 years later his words would be available 24/7, broadcast freely to a global market, translated by machines, not priests or scribes or scholars or his somewhat bitchy friend Ben Johnson.

The poet's name was Shakespeare, and he was whistling in the dark.

Y'see, "sluttish time" is on my mind today, though I consider her more of a flirt. NOX DORMIENDA turned one on July 18th.

Now, those who know me know I like to celebrate as much as possible ... but I'm kind of quietly humbled right now, amazed at how blessed I've been that this tiny little book from a tiny little publisher is still attracting readers and will hopefully be available from a larger press in paperback (with the sequel coming out next year). Stay tuned for further news ...

In the year since NOX debuted, I've learned that the greatest gift of being a writer is the community I've met--readers, writers, book stores, publishers, editors, bloggers, reviewers, journalists, publicists, agents ... people. That is the sweetest blessing of all, and I am so, so lucky to be here and with them and on the road I've traveled!

And what else has happened in the last year?

Bruce Alexander Award. Macavity nomination. Foreign rights sold in Italy and Greece for NOX.

In January, in the midst of the publishing freefall, moving to Thomas Dunne/Minotaur with CITY OF DRAGONS, finding my dream editor and publisher thanks to my dream agent.

And now, after a fabulous and incredible Thrillerfest, where the news was first announced, I can add that "Children's Day", my short story prequel to CITY OF DRAGONS, will be in the next ITW anthology--publishing June, 2010 by Tor. It's called FIRST THRILLS, and will feature 12 "bestselling authors of today" with 12 "bestselling authors of tomorrow". More details later, but how humbled I am to be keeping such company!

It's been a year of bounty and profound gratitude, of feeling at home and like dreams really do come true if you wish upon a star, like living a Disney movie directed by Gary Marshall.

Last October, I thought NOX would be a bare blip on the radar screen, long forgotten a year later. And while I don't make any claim to it outlasting either monuments or someone's new marble countertop for the kitchen, the fact that I can celebrate its year-old birthday with the strong hope of continuing the series at a major publisher is, well, a miracle.

Add CITY OF DRAGONS--what I hope will be a true breakout novel--and I just might break into song at any moment. ;)

Thank you all for helping me get here, on this road and at this moment ... I'm lighting a candle ... and in the years ahead, hoping for a few more. :)

New York, New York!

2009-07-05T19:08:00.000-07:00

It's been an adventurous week!

No time to write about Vertigo, unfortunately--gotta save it for next time. I haven't had much time to do anything but work on some deadlines for the website relaunch, which we wanted to have happen before Thrillerfest, but looks like will happen the week after. And speaking of Thrillerfest ...

New York awaits! The conference is always exciting, and it's in the most exciting city on the planet, so ... I'm gearing up. Meetings. Parties. Panels. Non-stop, "city that never sleeps" fun! I leave early Wednesday, and will probably not be back to my Writing in the Dark post until the following week, though I'm hoping to squeeze in a blog or a tweet or two.

What else? Well, we just got word that the Greek rights to NOX DORMIENDA have been sold, so Roman Noir will be available in Athens and all over the remarkably beautiful country of Hellas.

I'm a bit emotional over the fact that my first foreign rights sales have been Italy and Greece--the foundations of western civilization, the countries and cultures I've spent so much time in, physically and mentally. From my first D'Aulaire's Greek Mythology (checked out of a Tallahassee, Florida library when I was in the second grade), to now seeing my first book published in modern Greek ... it's like an affirmation. Efcharisto!

Friday was photoshoot day ... we need new head shots for CITY OF DRAGONS, so ventured to the sunny side of the Bay and Berkeley, over to Lisa Keating, photographer extraordinaire. Lisa makes you feel immediately comfortable, in a beautiful, airy, naturally lit studio, complete with a black lab named Happy, who makes you feel exactly that.

Despite a TV movie-like mishap--my dry cleaner didn't give me my entire order, and so I arrived in Berkeley without a shirt and had to fight through horrendous 4th of July traffic to get back to San Francisco and then turned immediately around so I could make it back to Berkeley in time--the shoot was a dream, and makeup artist Tricia Turner and Lisa just the best people anyone--particuarly writers with nerves--could ever hope to work with!! I can't wait for the photos ... and yes, I wore one of my fedoras. :)

Today was Sunday Breakfast with Friends time, a wonderful opportunity to see pals and brilliant writers Laura Benedict (who lives in Illinois, so I never see her enough) and Sophie Littlefield (who lives in the Bay Area, but whom I still don't see enough!) We had an old-fashioned breakfast at an old-fashioned restaurant and I only wish I could spend more Sundays doing this ...

So, until next time, thanks for reading Writing in the Dark, thanks for checking out our new grog Criminal Minds, and I will do my best to convey some of the madness, fun, and exultation of Thrillerfest in New York!

For the Love of Chrysler ...

2009-06-23T17:46:00.000-07:00

I'm a big believer in serendipity. You know, those chance encounters and opportunities that come your way and (as long as you're not actually starring in a noir) can lead to fabulous fun.

As a writer, I like to let serendipity guide me sometimes, through plot points and character development ... and this weekend, a bit of research fell into my life the same way.

I was in Tiburon Saturday--one of Marin County's most beautiful towns--visiting my brilliant and wonderful agent. And it just so happens that Tiburon was hosting a one day Classic Auto festival at the same time.

Now, I love classic cars--you know, when American cars were truly special, built to last, and featured rumble seats or (a bit later) some truly amazing fin work.
These cars are wonders of engineering, and at the Tiburon show, many were lovingly restored or sported full ownership histories posted on the window.

An event like this gives me the chance to really develop a feel for a period car model--a tremendous research opportunity for my 1940 series ...

I'm not in Tiburon very often, but last year, when I was writing CITY OF DRAGONS, I happened to stumble in to Tiburon on another warm day. And--you guessed it--they were hosting the very same car show. The odds of me being in Tiburon on the day they host a day-long annual car show--twice, in consecutive years--well, that's just serendipity for you.

Of course, inspiration struck. I'll be starting the sequel to CITY OF DRAGONS very soon, and it was both lucky and wonderful, lighting upon the chance to see

a glorious 1940 Packard Station Wagon (Wood Sides)

Or a 1940 Cadillac Convertible

Or Gertie, a 1939 Chevrolet "Master Deluxe Business Coupe"

Or a 1934 Pontiac

... or even a 1918 Pierce Arrow.

What car was my favorite? Well, I love the rumble seated 1934 Pontiac ...

but I liked the idea of driving this 1967 Jaguar convertible.

In a word ... classic. And serendipitous!! :)

BTW, we launched Criminal Minds, our group blog and virtual panel, last week--and traffic has been brisk! Come by and comment in the month of June, and you could win a $50 Independent Mystery Booksellers Association member gift certificate, a $50 Barnes and Noble, and signed copies of our books! I post on Thursdays.

Back soon, with photos of San Juan Bautista ... and a talk about Vertigo.

Cover Love

2009-06-16T19:56:00.001-07:00

It's been an eventful few days! Ever feel like the days pass too quickly for you to grab--that they blend and weave, and before you know it a week has gone ahead of you? Yup. Just happened to me. Here's why:

Last week, I finished revisions to MALEDICTUS, and the manuscript is now with my wonderful agent. First step on the road to seeing my first series picked up and moving ahead--complete!

I posted my first Noir Bar column for Pop Syndicate ... on Gilda, naturally. Who wouldn't want to launch a project with Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford? I'll be writing these columns once a month, and liberally sprinkling Writing in the Dark with a few noir reviews, too.

Thursday was my birthday. According to astrologers, this is a "Solar Return" year--the sun was in the same spot in the sky as it was when I was born (lo, those many years ago!). My mom visited; we took a trip in pilgrimage down to San Juan Bautista and its mission, where Hitchcock filmed Vertigo. I'll post pictures from the trip in a later post on why Jimmy Stewart's character is so creepy.

What else? Ate garlic ice cream in Gilroy, the Garlic Capital of the World. Yeah, I know it's weird, but what else are you going to do on a warm June day in Gilroy? We ate fresh farm cherries, too, Ranier and Bing, and bought a pack of the largest, freshest and most delicious strawberries I've ever tasted ... organic and locally grown in Watsonville.

These are a few of the reasons I live in California ... the produce can be worth the insanity. ;)

Took a trip to Chinatown, shot some photos for the new website, which is coming very soon. I can't wait!

We launched a grog--that's a group blog, but you already knew that--on Monday. Criminal Minds is a brainchild (actually a dreamchild) of mine, and it's really special to see it come to fruition and so successfully. But with a lineup that includes CJ Lyons, Rebecca Cantrell, Sophie Littlefield, Shane Gericke, Tim Maleeny and Gabriella Herkert, you know it will be fun, fascinating and never a dull moment. :) Check us out--I post on Thursdays (it's the Thursday Child thing).

Today, Becky Cantrell and I were visiting authors over on the fabulous Barnes and Noble Mystery Book Club. You can check out the conversation and see how we harass one another. ;)

Last--but not certainly not least--I received my CITY OF DRAGONS cover yesterday ...

Wow.

It's sublime--haunting--beautiful. Thrilling!! All the things I want my book to be.

David Rotstein is a Senior Art Director at St. Martin's and a design genius. He's nominated three times over for an Anthony this year, and the breadth and depth of his work is amazing. I feel like I've won the Lotto, or beat James Bond at baccarat! Like I made a movie, and got Saul Bass to do the titles. I'm just humbled by this gorgeous, gorgeous work, and dancing the happy dance of cover love. :)

What's next? Preparation for Thrillerfest in NYC, where I'll be a Panel Master with a great team and a great topic: Now What? Keeping Readers Turning the Pages. The panelists are James Scott Bell, Robert Ellis, Heywood Gould, Steven James and Charlie Newton.

Much work ahead on the website. New postcards, new bookmarks. Preparation for a Litquake Fundraiser in San Francisco later in July that's going to be a lot of fun!

And always back to the cover. I stare ... and I smile. Louise Ure , one of the wisest women I know (and a supreme talent in crime fiction), is so right--a cover like this makes you want to get everything color coordinated. Figure on seeing me in some gorgeous browns and warm tones next year, with a splash of red!

Meanwhile ... have a wonderful week, and as always ... thanks for reading! :)

Marathon!

2009-06-04T18:03:00.000-07:00

This is late and will be briefer than normal ... especially for me ... but for all good reasons!

I'm on several deadlines at the moment, leading up to Thrillerfest in New York. I've been running so hard, I'm getting flashbacks of Marathon Man and Logan's Run! (Reminds me ... I've got to make a dentist appointment).

So not much time left over for anything interesting, and I didn't think zzzz made for a good blog post. ;)

I'm also not writing much in the Dark this week because I've been working hard over a grog dream come true! No, silly, not the grog you drink, the grog you band together to save the world with! No, wait, that's the Justice League. Well, a group blog, anyway ... and I literally dreamed of it about a year ago.

It's a very special grog ... more like a virtual conference panel! Seven crime fiction authors in a variety of subgenres will be answering questions every week about all kinds of things--the writing process, crime, life, etc. We hope YOU will send us in questions you would like to read ruminations about!

We call it Criminal Minds, and we're launching on June 15th. Next week, you'll be able to read about us and find out just how criminal our minds are. Then the 15th starts the panel rolling, with a new question to follow every week.

We're also giving away prizes for the first month--signed books, gift certificates. So if you're a fan of Writing in the Dark, please stop by!

I'll also be appearing soon at Pop Syndicate, a terrific website about everything pop culture. Pony up to the Noir Bar, my monthly column ... we'll be dishing about--what else? film noir. Gilda, my personal favorite, is what we start with. Over virtual cocktails, too! I'll still post noir reviews at Writing in the Dark when the mood strikes, and Pop Syndicate will give me the chance to wax eloquent in a comfortable speakeasy setting. No such thing as too much noir!

So I'll see you next week ... gotta go finish that marathon! And thanks for reading! :)

Liberty for All

2009-05-25T17:02:00.000-07:00

It's been an eventful few days!

Last week I received my ISBN number for CITY OF DRAGONS, an occasion for much celebration--which I did as a guest blogger on Working Stiffs, through the generosity of the wonderful Joyce Tremel and other friends on that fabulous grog.

My friend Rebecca Cantrell is in town to launch her extraordinary novel, A TRACE OF SMOKE ... we were the literary salon guests of one of the most wonderful and fascinating people in a wonderful and fascinating business, Mystery Readers International founder (and chocolate lover) Janet Rudolph .

Becky had a SRO launch party at one of my favorite places, M is for Mystery--and if you haven't had a chance to pick up her book, you should. Historical noir at its finest--and at its darkest (the setting is 1931 Berlin).

And I've been chugging away at various deadlines, editorial and non-editorial, with nary a moment left over for noirish indulgence. But soon, soon ... particularly as I'll be blogging over on Pop Syndicate about my favorite film noir flickers.

Today, however, I want to talk about Memorial Day and San Francisco.

Beyond the normal tourist sensations of Fisherman's Wharf--the ode to consumerism that is Pier 39, the gimmicky restaurants, the cheap t-shirts, the always-real and welcome barks of the sea lions and smell of sourdough bread--behind the wizard's curtain is another chapter of The City's history.

I'm talking Pier 45.

Just a short stroll down a working pier--yet miles away from the silver men and the keyboard players in the parking lot--is the Jeremiah O'Brien. One of two remaining fully-functional Liberty ships surviving from World War II.

She shares the berth with the U.S.S. Pampanito, a valiant WWII era submarine that has been preserved under the auspices of the National Park Service: the San Francisco National Maritime Park Association, to be exact.

The Jeremiah, though, isn't part of the park. It stays afloat--and takes full-throttle cruises, particuarly during Fleet Week and for special commemorative occasions like the anniversary of D-Day--solely through memberships and volunteers.

Think of it! A living, breathing, working ship, one of only two remaining of 2,710 built--iron and steel, history in the water. And all through the tireless efforts of volunteers who love her, who maintain her, and who make sure that the Jeremiah will live over Memorial Days past counting.

I've had the honor of sailing on her--for the 60th anniversary of D-Day. And while most of the world knows her--if they know her at all--from the engine room of James Cameron's Titanic (yup, she doubled for the tragic White Star liner), her legacy, her courage, and what she stands for touches us all.

The Jeremiah O'Brien is a Liberty ship. She is the last unaltered example of her kind. A floating museum of a war that was not predetermined, that was not a foregone conclusion. She and her sister ships ferried supplies and cargo to the front lines, and were a core part of the lend-lease program to Britain before the US joined the war. Roosevelt said this class of quickly built and aesthetically plain ships would bring liberty to Europe. And so they did.

In 1994, the Jeremiah O'Brien journeyed from San Francisco to the beaches of Normandy, revisiting her part in Operation Overlord. She was the only large ship to return for the 50th anniversary.

If you ever have a chance to see her, I hope you do. She--and the Pampanito--are floating Memorial Days, 365 days a year.

Next: More film, more San Francisco and more news!

Climbing the Noir Walls

2009-05-12T17:56:00.000-07:00

"Murder! Infidelity! Brain damage!"

That could've been the tagline for the MGM (yes, they made dark stuff too, not just glossy musicals) noir High Wall (1947).

Y'see, High Wall is a terrific example one of a fascinating film subgenre ... the damaged vet/re-establish life and family noir, sometimes with amnesia thrown in as a sideline (others include The Crooked Way (1949), The Blue Dahlia (1946), Somewhere in the Night (1946), and last week's Cornered (1945)).

Amnesia was a staple of films, particularly with war veteran heroes -- check out Random Harvest (1942) for a quintessential example--but in the hands of the noir masters, these films weren't about amnesia as much as they were about wiping the slate clean.

Think about it: after the cataclysm and upheaval of the world's biggest and bloodiest conflict--one that forever reshaped this country, overthrew Empires and remade the Superpowers--redefining one's place in the New World Order was imperative ... and frightening. Dramas like William Wyler's The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)--which certainly possessed a few noirish touches--helped reestablish normalcy in a forever changed and abnormal world. But noir ... well, it tackled the anxiety head on.

Wartime marriage? Afraid you married a slut? Get in line, bub. Having trouble sleeping? Nightmares? Head injury? We know just how you feel. And thanks to the era's fascination with and confidence in psychiatry, we've got a cure, too, and she sometimes looks like Ingrid Bergman (Spellbound, 1945) or Audrey Totter (High Wall).

These films said it was OK if you got hurt and you can't remember and nothing is what it seemed like in 1942. They said it was OK if you married in haste and she's been cheating on you with a black market 4-F. Don't murder the bimbo--just divorce her and move on to Veronica Lake. The films typically offered cures, either through therapy or a dame or both, and ended with the vet establishing a new family, location in a dislocated environment.

And that brings us to High Wall. Directed by the under-appreciated Curtis Bernhardt (Conflict (1945) Juke Girl (1942) and Possessed (1947)), it stars Robert Taylor as a brain damaged flier who suffers black-outs ... and who has apparently strangled his greedy, adulterous wife (Dorothy Patrick). Enter Audrey Totter, in a rare non-femme fatale role, as devoted and caring psychiatrist Dr. Ann Lorrison, who treats Taylor while he's locked up in the looney bin. The once sleek and sophisticated Herbert Marshall plays the bimbo's boss (he's a publisher of a religious books) with a certain degree of both debauchery and pathos, and even H.B. Warner (It's A Wonderful Life, 1946) shows up in a small role.

Taylor turns in an able performance, proving he was more than just a pretty face. Like John Payne and Dick Powell, who made successful second careers playing tough guys in noirs, his film roles had been light comedies or romantic melodramas like Camille (1937), and High Wall gives him something sturdier.

Totter, however, steals the show--as she usually did. And this time without being the bad girl! Paul Vogel's stunning cinematography (he filmed the Chandler adaptation Lady in the Lake (1947), also with Totter, and a little gem with Marsha Hunt and Van Heflin called Kid Glove Killer, 1942) makes me wish he shot more noir and less films like Jupiter's Darling (1955).

Sydney Boehm worked on the script, which is crisp and fast-paced, if not at the deliriously baroque levels of his masterpiece, The Big Heat (1953). He later wrote Rogue Cop (1954), another noir vehicle for Taylor.

All in all, High Wall is a terrific film, and a magnifying glass on the very real anxieties and social issues of the immediate post-war era. Unfortunately, you can't find it on DVD, but watch for it on TCM or try The Danger and Despair Knitting Circle, the best source for noir on the planet. So ... what have you been watching lately? ;)

A Forgotten Corner

2009-05-05T18:23:00.000-07:00

Before I talk about Cornered, a little-known Dick Powell noir, I need to confess. I'm not in a very noirish mood.

NOX DORMIENDA was just nominated for a Macavity Award--the Sue Feder Memorial Historical Mystery Award--and, well, I'm happy. Joyful. Surprised and shocked and ecstatic and humbled! More like a Busby Berkeley musical than the mean black and white streets.

It's a wonderful honor to be in company with fellow nominees Rhys Bowen, David Liss, Jeri Westerson, Karen Maitland and Ward Larsen. Thank you, Mystery Readers International!! So I'll do my hardboiled best, but if I suddenly start sounding like Mickey Rooney about to put on a show in a barn, you'll know why!

Now, then (clearing throat). Cornered. 1945. Directed by Edward Dmytryk, the man who helmed Dick Powell's arguably greatest noir role (as Philip Marlowe) in Murder, My Sweet. Produced by Adrian Scott, producer of that earlier film. Unlike MMS, though, Powell is not a professional gumshoe--actually, THE professional gumshoe--but rather a luckless Canadian airman, just demobbed from the War ... out to discover who ordered the murder of his young wife, a member of the French resistance. Along the way, the film reminds the world that fascism didn't end with the War.

If you think Powell is too glib, too shiny, too pat, try this movie. He's got some glib moments--that's the script, and he is still Dick Powell--but the emotional darkness of the film will surprise you.

There is a host of films--and a subset of noirs--that deal with post-War issues, particularly lost relationships. From amnesiac war veteran noir (The Crooked Way, 1949) to the "I married a dame who turned out to be a slut" variety (Chandler's own The Blue Dahlia, 1946), to the excellent High Wall (1947), which is a combination of the two, noir was a cultural lens through which society could face the downside of hasty wartime unions ... and help redefine family for the burgeoning conservatism of the Ike years.

Cornered is unusual in showing a tragic loss--from the GI's perspective. And Powell is quite convincing with the pain he displays in Dmytryk's raw, fast-paced opening scenes.

The setting quickly switches to Argentina--even before the war, a hot bed of fascism. Powell is in Buenos Aires to track down a mysterious German agent whose rumored death was just that ... and who also gave the order to murder Powell's wife. That, as they say, makes it personal.

Walter Slezak lives up to his delightful name in a scene-stealing turn as a sleazy, sneaky peddlar of information. Morris Carnovsky (Dead Reckoning (1947), Thieves' Highway (1949)) is a fascist-fighting lawyer ... before the end of the movie, Powell will need him. Nina Vale is fetching in an Audrey Totter role, and even Jack LaRue (The Story of Temple Drake, 1933) has a memorable part to play. French actress Micheline Cheirel plays a semi-romantic interest--Powell is too broken up over his wife to really pursue her--and carries it off well-enough to make me wish she'd made more films. Even Luther Adler, John Garfield's former theater partner, (D.O.A., 1950) glowers and glimmers in powerful turn.

The script is juicy (uncredited Ben Hecht, credited John Paxton, who penned Murder, My Sweet (1944)), the direction taut, and the cinematography essential, moody noir (cinematographer Harry J. Wild filmed MMS, Pitfall (1948) and other classics.) Unfortunately, Cornered isn't available on DVD, so you'll have to look for it on TCM ... but rest assured, if you liked Murder, My Sweet you should like Cornered. It's worth the wait.

BTW ... Scott, Dmytryk, Carnovsky and Adler were all blacklisted. Dmytryk famously caved in to pressure after spending a few months in jail, and wound up naming names. Anti-fascism in the McCarthy era was synonymous with Communism ... a sad and ironic commentary that makes Cornered more of a noir than it intended.

I'll be blogging over on the Thrillerfest blog on Friday, guesting on Working Stiffs on the 22nd, and starting a regular film noir column at Pop Syndicate in June ... so stop in and pour yourself a drink. :)

Next time: I can't decide between Vertigo or High Wall. I may flip a coin ... but not from the tower at San Juan Bautista!

City of Angels, City of Books

2009-04-26T21:12:00.000-07:00

I love L.A.

I know as a San Francisco resident I'm not supposed to express my deep enthusiasm for our warm, sunny, and friendly neighbor to the south, but really ... the Bay Area needs to get over it.

I enjoy driving here--California's bounty of beauty is showcased by the venerable and bell-lined Highway 101, extra hour of driving be damned. I enjoy staying here, particularly in one of my favorite hotels in the world, the historic Culver Hotel overlooking Culver Studios (formerly Desilu, formerly RKO, formerly Selznick).

Hollywood history doesn't get richer than that, and hospitality doesn't come better than what you find at the family-owned Culver Hotel (neither does the scrumptious food, prepared in house by a supremely creative chef).

I've been here since Friday-- we drove down for the LA Times Festival of Books, ready to celebrate the sale of Italian rights for NOX DORMIENDA this week (coming soon in a mass market paperback edition in Italia!).

Friday night brought a fabulous party at one of the best bookstores in the world, The Mystery Bookstore in Westwood. I saw friends, met new ones, ran into the wonderful San Francisco PI writer, Chandler fan and Richard Avedon of the crime writing community, Mark Coggins, whom it's a honor to be snapped by, and partied with pals Susan Arnout Smith, Cornelia Read, Jeri Westerson, Louise Ure, Sue Ann Jaffarian, and a lot of other colleagues--here's the complete list, courtesy of the Mystery Bookstore:

Shilpa Agarwal, Brett Battles, James Scott Bell, Cara Black, Marc Blatte, Carol Higgins Clark, Mary Higgins Clark, Dianne Emley, Tom Epperson, Christa Faust, David Fuller, Michelle Gagnon, Victor Gischler, Lee Goldberg, Chris Grabenstein, Robert Greer, Denise Hamilton, Naomi Hirahara, Gregg Hurwitz, Sue Ann Jaffarian, Craig Johnson, Leslie Klinger, John Lescroart, Paul Levine, Sheila Lowe, Lisa Lutz, Robert Masello, George Mastras, T. Jefferson Parker, Gary Phillips, William Rabkin, Cornelia Read, Patricia Smiley, Susan Arnout Smith, Mark Haskell Smith, Eric Stone, Kelli Stanley, Louise Ure, Sarah Weinman, Jeri Westerson, John Morgan Wilson and Edward Wright!

Saturday we visited two of the outstanding stores in the area, Book 'Em Mysteries in South Pasadena and Vroman's in Pasadena, found some gorgeous vintage jewelry at a thrift shop, and played tourist on Hollywood Boulvard at Grauman's Chinese Theater, where I literally stood in Humphrey Bogart's footsteps.

Today was Festival day ... and it was overwhelming. First, the UCLA campus is breathtaking. And then ... Booths! Tents! Pavilions! Sugar-coated almonds! Flyers shoved at you from all directions! And, most importantly ... books. Books, books, everywhere. Hardcovers, softcovers, first editions, antiquarian, brand-spanking new. LA must be one of the most literate places in America, judging from the amount of people flocking to this incredible and amazing festival.

I visited with my Sisters in Crime, where I ran into friends and chatted with other authors; I dropped by the wonderful Mysterious Galaxy, San Diego's superlative specialty bookstore; and I signed at The Mystery Bookstore with Edgar nominees Tom Epperson and David Fuller, Lefty nominee, funny lady and friend Sue Ann Jaffarian, and as-sweet-as-her-books Joanne Fluke, who brought cream puffs for all.

All in all, an amazing adventure, one I can't wait to repeat next year when RICE BOWL launches. I love fog, but sunshine, blue skies, and good books make for a true Dream Factory.

Back soon with photos from the Festival and the road, as well as the promised review of Dick Powell's Cornered.

State of What?

2009-04-19T19:33:00.000-07:00

So what do you do when you need to get your brakes fixed, and you don't want to rent a car?

You go to the movies.

Yesterday, we faced the choice of: 1) watching sitcoms that should never have seen the light of day, let alone syndication, while sitting in a dismal waiting room on hard, puce colored plastic chairs and breathing in the smell of rubber; or 2), going to Century Theater in the mall (despite moral objections to the idea of movies in malls) and trying to find something worth seeing.

Fortunately, there was an offering without either Zac Efron or Miley Cyrus (or Billy Ray) ...
And that's how I came to see State of Play on its opening weekend.

What did I think? Well, know going in that I adore Russell Crowe. I think he's the finest actor of his generation. I like Ben Affleck--I thought he was actually quite good in Hollywoodland. Robin Wright Penn was affecting and fine in a small role. And I worship at the altar of Helen Mirren, who has more sex appeal in her little toe than the twenty-somethings haunting the paparazzi rags.

I found the acting terrific--particularly a turn by Jason Bateman that should net him a Best Supporting Actor nod. I thought the direction riveting and superbly paced, the editing quintessentially suspenseful. And the overall plot--which focuses on why we need honest to God newspaper people, journalists with ink under their fingersnails and Scotch in their desk drawers--to be provocative, timely and important.

Themes like journalism, dying newspapers, political hypocrisy (especially about sex, infidelity and any other issue that used to be considered private back in the day when privacy actually existed--i.e. before other people's mobile phone conversations became commuter entertainment) ... and the very real and very scary use of private companies to fight wars, companies that make war to make a profit ... well, all of this was intelligent and plausibly presented.

But.

The actual plot didn't make sense. Mick LaSalle, SF Chronicle critic, loved the film up until the end, then lambasted the filmmakers and the writers for leaving us with a nonsensical "thrilling" ending that violated logic and characterization left and right. And ya know ... I gotta agree with him. I disagree, though, that it was All the President's Men up until that point. Despite some wit in the dialog, I thought there were too many Evel Knieval leaps of faith and logic, too many loose ends, too many undeveloped character threads that were never answered (even badly).

Part of the problem is that the film was a condensation of a six-hour BBC mini-series. Part of the problem was that it looked like the filmmakers changed their minds about a particular character half-way through the movie. Part of the problem is that we're supposed to believe that Ben and Russell were roommates (and the same age as Robin Wright Penn), when Russell and Robin are clearly much older than Affleck, despite some grey added to his temples.

All in all, the film really was a thrill ride in terms of edge-of-your-seat direction, and expressed the best intentions in the world. But as a writer, I felt like it was also a three shell trick to hide a faulty plot. And I still don't understand the title.

But hallelujah for one thing--it sang the praises of newspapers. Watch the end credits--which brillantly illustrate the path from the reporter's computer to your neighborhood delivery of The Times, The Post, The Chronicle. And making journalists heroic--no matter how imperfect the vehicle--is always, always a worthy endeavor.

Next week: a look at a terrific noir with Dick Powell at his most hard-boiled: Cornered. Plus, I'll be in Los Angeles for the Los Angeles Times Festival of the Book, signing on Sunday at 1 PM with The Mystery Book Store. Come by Booth #411 and say hi!

Of Stamps and Stars

2009-04-09T17:26:00.000-07:00

The US Post Office is an embarrassment of riches these days. Edgar Allen Poe (finally, a genre writer gets respect!) and the next in the classic actor series (subtitled "Turner Classic Movies--the Reason I Subscribe to Cable"). I rushed right out and bought my Bette Davis stamp. The one sheet is young Bette from Jezebel, the stamp itself the more mature Bette as Margo Channing (arguably her greatest role).

Thinking about Bette, of course, made me think about Joan Crawford. The two were serious rivals, on and off the screen. Both superb actresses--though, in my opinion, Joan was the more naturalistic of the two, more suited to film, and far less mannered. I like both. You can, you know ... this isn't a "John or Paul" kind of thing.

Anyway, in the few minutes I carve out every week for thinking about absolutely nothing important (crucial for a writer--it's like clearing the cache on your browser), it occurred to me that Joan will probably never get a stamp. And that's tragic. If Bette gets one, Joan should get one, Mommie Dearest be damned. The world needs to get over Faye Dunaway's wire hangers.

Case in point ... a bizarre film called Johnny Guitar (1954). Two fifths western, one fifth Douglas Sirk melodrama, and two fifths noir, it's what's known as a camp classic, but deserves to be taken seriously. Hey, anything directed by Nicholas Ray, the man who gave us one of the greatest noirs of all time--In a Lonely Place--and helped define the genre with They Live by Night--and was married to the indisputable Queen of Noir, Gloria Grahame--well, let's just say he's the Black Amex of noir cred.

Gender is the main theme of Johnny Guitar, though apparently Ray was also trying to create a metaphor for the lynch mob mentality of the Witch Hunt (best evoked in the noir film The Sound of Fury, aka Try and Get Me). The final shoot-out--and really, all the enmity in the movie--is between two women, the saloon-owning bad girl with the heart of gold, Vienna, who only wants to hold on to her palace long enough for the railroad to come through and make her rich (so she can forget all the men she had to bed in order to pay for the building) -- and Emma Small, played with demonic glee by Mercedes McCambridge (best known for voicing Satan in The Exorcist).

Joan wears pants and guns and early on is described by one of her male hirelings (and this was before The Catwoman and her male hirelings on Batman) as making him feel like she was more of a man than he was, or words to that effect. But when former gunslinger/lover and now musician, Johnny Guitar (Sterling Hayden) shows up, flames rekindle, and Joan starts wearing dresses ... at least until she has to face down Mercedes, who is out to string her up.

There are some juicy lines in this amazing mish-mash ... when Emma leads a gang of men (including the usually virile Ward Bond), trying to get them to attack Vienna, Joan faces them down on a stairway ... just her and a revolver.
Emma (shrill): "You're nothing but a railroad tramp! ... You can't kill us all."
Vienna (Crawford raises an eyebrow, smirks as her lips turn downward): "Two will do."

Mercedes is waaay over the top here, and leaves no doubt as to the sexual basis of her animosity. Whenever she gets a chance to do Joan wrong, she gets as orgasmic as it was possible to be in 1954. The script suggests that it is jealousy over a rather lacklustre ne'er do well, named the Dancing Kid (yeah, no one had real names in the Wild West), who's got the hots for Vienna and not the shrimpy Emma Small.

But really ... everything about her performance and the film suggests that it is Vienna she loves/hates, not the Dancing Kid. And interestingly, Mercedes went on to co-star in Giant, where she played Luz, a decidedly epicene character (Adarene Clinch: Why Luz, everybody in this county knows you'd rather herd cattle than make love. Luz: Well, there's one thing you got to say for cattle... boy, you put your brand on one of them, you're gonna know where it's at!), and later gave a memorable turn as another androgynous threat to womenkind in Touch of Evil, where she menaces Janet Leigh.

I'm sure there have been dissertations written about Johnny Guitar, but above all, it's entertainment ... with John Carradine and Ernest Borgnine in memorable roles, what's not to like? And though apparently Joan was going through rough times when she made this movie--and literally fought with Mercedes behind the scenes--her performance in this, one of the strangest films of a strange decade, is but one example of why she should get her own stamp.

Hey USPS ... you listening?

I'm getting ready for the Los Angeles Times Festival of the Book at the end of the month ... but will be back next week with more noir ... in between deadlines. :)

Agricultural Noir

2009-03-31T17:07:00.000-07:00

Today is Cesar Chavez day, a state holiday in California, where our Golden State bounty still depends on migrant farm workers, willing to do the back-breaking work of gathering lettuce and hand-picking tomatoes for urban and suburban dining tables.

Now, film noir has always tackled serious issues ... from antisemitism (Crossfire) to rampant materialism (The Prowler), it's embraced themes bigger budgets wouldn't touch (and thereby earned some of the genre's best writers and directors a spot on the McCarthy-era blacklist).

So if you've already seen The Grapes of Wrath--surely one of the most elegiac films ever made--and you're not close enough to drive to Salinas and the John Steinbeck Center--you might want to consider watching an actual agricultural noir in honor of farm workers.

First choice is 1949's Thieves' Highway, which I've blogged about before. Richard Conte, Valentina Cortese, Lee J. Cobb ... and magnifcently directed by the brilliant Jules Dassin, whom we lost just last year. This film is one of my favorite twenty-five noirs of all time ... and written by the equally brilliant A.I. "Buzz" Bezzerides, who also penned Kiss Me Deadly and They Drive By Night, among other classics. Renowned for its realistic depiction of the produce market in San Francisco, this film will never let you look at apples the same way again.

I'd also recommend Border Incident (also 1949) with George Murphy, Howard da Silva and Ricardo Montalban, also previously discussed and readily available on DVD ... it will never let you look at threshers the same way again, either.

But for those of you who look for the truly esoteric ... which would probably include everyone reading this ... try to find Juke Girl (1942), the noir I mentioned last week. It's the oddest, most bizarre little film I've seen in years, and not the least so because it stars Ronald Reagan as a rabble-rousing farm/unionist/cooperative worker fighting a corrupt business monopoly.

Yeah. I know. I remember the '80s, too. But this was Reagan's flirtation with leftist politics, pre agro-business. The script, not coincidentally, was also written by Bezzerides (his first film credit), and reads like a poor man's (make that a very poor man's) version of Thieves' Highway.

Ann Sheridan, George Tobias, Gene Lockhart and Howard da Silva round out the noir cred cast ... though its cred was never in question with me because it came recommended by Eddie Muller. I finally caught it on TCM when it aired a few weeks ago. Ably directed by Curtis Bernhardt (an under-appreciated stylist of noirs Conflict, Possessed and The High Wall), the relentlessly swing-filled score--which continues to jump, jive and wail even in dramatic moments--will make you scratch your head in wonder, when you're not wondering at Reagan as a leftist farmer.

So tonight--when you're digging into some organic greens or slicing a cherry tomato--think about the people who helped get it there, and kick back and watch a noir.

With fresh produce and lines like this: "Look bud, every time a freight train shakes itself fleas like you come hopping out" ... you won't go hungry.

Sisterhood in the Blogosphere!

2009-03-22T15:55:00.000-07:00

I was delighted and honored to get a Sisterhood Award nomination from PK the Bookeemonster and her wonderful, always insightful blog!

Herewith are my nominees (wonder women all), and the directions:

IF YOU ARE A NOMINEE, PLEASE GO AHEAD AND....
1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate up to 10 blogs which show great attitude and/or gratitude!
3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.
4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
5. Remember to link to the person from whom you received your award.

And the nominees are:

1. Laura Benedict's Notes from the Handbasket (a fascinating blog, stunning writer, and dear friend)

2. Linda L. Richards (fellow Deco-loving pal from the NW, and a great writer and journalist)

3. Sophie Littlefield's Can't Stop, Won't Stop (good friend and debut novelist--watch for her terrific BAD DAY FOR SORRY, coming out in August)

4. Kaye Barley's Meanderings and Musings (a graceful, lovely presence wherever she is, with a blog to match!)

5. BookBitch (one of the best thriller/mystery review sites around--thanks, Stacy!!)

6. Becky LeJeune's No More Grumpy Bookseller (Becky is a fabulous reviewer and speed reader!)

7. Jungle Red Writers (amazing writers and amazing women all)

8. Working Stiffs (always fun and interesting, and a truly great community)

9. Poe's Deadly Daughters (the name says it all!! another wonderful group of writers)

10. Sarah Weinman's brilliant, must-read blog for all crime fiction news and observations, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind.

Next post, a crazy little noir starring Ronald Reagan as a farm worker organizer, fighting corrupt monopolies in the burgeoning agro-business of 1942. Yeah, you heard me. It's called JUKE GIRL, and features Ann Sheridan in the titular role.

BTW--March 26th is the anniversary of Raymond Chandler's death. If you love crime fiction, remember the master with a nod of your fedora.

Mahalo Morning

2009-03-17T18:58:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been blurry. Of course, it could be that I need a new eye prescription, but I don't think so.

Hawaii lingers on the mind, the odor of plumeria and tropical breeze, the song and raucous cries of mynah birds. Black earth, white coral, both scorched by the sun, but gently ... gently.

Wednesday morning I woke up and stared out at the view from my room lanai ... the mountains in the distance, the palm trees--somehow more fragile there than in California--waving against a bluing sky.

A little later, I ate breakfast--how I miss the papaya!--and attended the awards brunch, loving Lee Goldberg's humor and Rhys Bowen's wonderful version of "I'm Evil" (she's also a fabulous singer!) and Barry Eisler's story about taking a long, hard fall in Japan. And jumped up with everyone, cheering on Bill and Toby Gottfried to a so well-deserved standing ovation. Then my world erupted into a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and absolute wonderment.

I was, and am, immensely honored at my nomination, and so proud to be listed among writers whom I admire so much as artists and people and friends. I can't really remember anything except the kaleidoscope and somehow making it to the stairway of the podium (thanks to the kind souls in the audience who were shouting "Go around, Kelli!") ... and wondering how I'd keep from either crying or imitating Sally Field or just freezing. I don't remember what I said -- it was a moment when words fail wordsmiths.

All in all, it felt a little like some kind of wonderful, spectacular concussion ... and it was a moment I'll treasure the rest of my life. Thank you, LCC and the amazing, incredible mystery community--and thank you, Hawaii. :)

I managed to get home on the red eye, red-eyed, no sleep. Slept a bit on Thursday, a little more on Friday, and then it was off to Sacramento and Authors on the Move, a formal gourmet dinner fundraiser for the Sacramento Public Libraries. Great fun, getting to drink Buena Vista pinot noir, meeting lots of other authors from all genres, and talking to three different tables of patrons about books and writing. Borders handled the book sales, a percentage of which went to the library, along with the profits from the live auction ... all in all, a spectacularly fun and exciting event in California's capital.

My luck held on the way back ... after a drive of more than 90 miles, our front tire went flat as we pulled into a Trader Joe's parking space. So it was an emergency visit to Sears Auto Center (Sears is a kind of family tradition), the only one open on a Sunday. We made it home, bedraggled, with my mom (who attended the Sacramento event), and dog in the back seat. And a lot of not-so-fresh produce from the Valley. You should see the size of the oranges!

And now back to work and focus ... though at the moment, I'm enjoying the blur. :)

Mahalo ... and aloha!

LCC Hawaii Top Ten

2009-03-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

It seems as if I've just arrived, just adjusted myself to a warm, slower and less hectic environment, and now--Wednesday--I go back to my beloved San Francisco and embrace the cold and the stress and the bustle all over again.

I'm not complaining--Noir City is my physical and spiritual home--but let's just say I understand the allure and hospitality of the Big Island--and I plan to return with my family for a vacation.

It's been a wonderful, wonderful conference--and I thought I'd share my top ten reasons why Hawaii makes for a really special LCC conference destination ...

1. It's warm, but not too warm. Yesterday the sun fully embraced us, and it was magnificent. The humidity isn't overbearing, the sunshine gentle, and the mountains in the distance still have snow.

2. Relaxation. I'm not actually sure if I've ever relaxed at a conference before this one ... at least without alcoholic help ... and a constant state of motion and excitement is its own fun (Thrillerfest in New York, for example). But it's wonderful to be able to relax without falling asleep!

3. Nature. Conferences tend to be held in urban centers, from New York to Chicago to San Francisco. The only kind of wild kingdom we usually get to see is the kind we write about in crime novels. To catch a glimpse of a mongoose in a parking lot--fish slipping between rocks and darting out of holes in ancient fish ponds--multi-colored birds flitting from fronds or to wake up to the myna birds outside your lanai--you instantly feel more connected to the Earth. And that's a good thing. You may even see wild goats and donkeys on the road between Kona and Waikoloa ... instead of the familiar deer silouette on the highway warning sign, you'll notice longer ears and shorter legs.

4. Culture. It doesn't take long--maybe two minutes?--to immediately feel the unique and special cultural heritage of Hawaii, and its genuine, welcoming spirit.

5. Waikoloa Marriott. A fabulous, open resort hotel, with a good restaurant and beautiful grounds.

6. Fresh papaya and passion fruit juice. Where else can you get served exotic fruit for your continental breakfast? Where else can you where fragrant flowers around your neck?

7. Diversity. In culture, nature, and things to do ... you can venture up a volcano, go horseback riding on a ranch, bird watch, take a sub tour, and get up close and personal with whales.

8. Luaus. On Sunday night we saw dancers, fire throwers/eaters, drummers, and enjoyed a veritable feast. If it's not in Hawaii, it's not a luau--it's just Grease II.

9. Cocktails. All those fruity drinks with the paper umbrellas actually belong here. I enjoyed a Blue Hawaii last night in honor of Elvis.

10. When you wake up, you're in Hawaii! And that's enough.

I'll blog tomorrow after I recover from the red-eye and share a wrap-up of my final day today ... but right now, I'm going out on the lanai and listen to the myna birds.

The Aloha Spirit ... Left Coast Crime

2009-03-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

So it's my first time in Hawaii, the conference is fabulous, and now that my cognitive abilities are reasonably restored (though never reasonable), some of my impressions ...

I arrived Sunday morning, amazed to land on the tarmac (yay for tarmacs!) rather than one of those long airport tubes. It was raining, a mystical, tropical warmth of big drops falling with a gentle touch on the black, rugged land all around the tiny airport.

The airport itself consists of small brown wooden buildings with open air exposure, dark brown, more like what I'd imagine as tasteful amusement park architecture, if that's not an oxymoron.

I bought a lei of plumeria and orchids (amazing fragrance) at the airport ... and yeah, I've heard the joke about sixteen times now, so quit sniggering.

Volcanic mountains rise up in the distance ... to the south, the island is green and lush. To the north, black sharp rocks--a more than century-old lava flow--drape the land, creating a disconcerting contrast to the pre-formed ideas of paradise. But then -- the aloha spirit. On the way to the Waikoloa Marriott -- a mostly new complex of hotel, garden, pool, beach, palm trees and shopping malls called the King Shops and the Queen's Marketplace--you see words spelled out in white shell against the sombre lava-black. Words that pay tribute, words that honor and remember, words that testify to love, whether it's Angie plus Daniel or in memory of someone lost.

No "graffitti". That wouldn't honor the land. That wouldn't honor the people. And that wouldn't, from my limited experience, seem to be Hawaiian.

People are friendly here, aloha and mahalo not just words in a tourist booklet or left on a recording when you're on phone hold. I've learned that Hawaii is a beautiful place with an ugly epidemic: crystal meth, called ice on the island. There's also an older crisis, the disparity of wealth between the land-owners and the poor, a demarkation of inequity that stretches back to the plantation era.

Hawaii is a land of contrast. Like aloha written in shells on the black, sharp rock.

I want to learn more about it ... and will.

And in the meantime, the conference is amazing. Louise Ure and Gillian Roberts and Bill and Toby Gottfried and Janet Rudolph, and all the dedicated volunteers have done an incredible job ... fascinating panels, exploratory side trips, movies, even a Sunday night luau.

Yesterday morning we enjoyed a spectacular debut author's breakfast sponsored by Mystery Scene ... followed by two debut panels. People are talking, sharing, drinking mai tais, admiring the flora and fauna (I saw a mongoose!) ... and relaxing. The rain has stopped.

And underneath it all, the aloha spirit ... a specific and special evocation of the generosity and humanity that always defines the mystery writing community. Hawaii and Left Coast Crime belong together. I'm so glad I'm here.

Aloha!

The Unconventional Convention!

2009-03-07T20:41:00.000-08:00

I'm on my way to Hawaii tomorrow--first time there. This year's Left Coast Crime is the "unconventional convention" and it promises to be a slap-bang load of fun and frolic and originality ... and with events like movie nights and a theatrical production and a dessert spectacular, it truly is unconventional.

While I'm flying tomorrow--in between writing deadlines--I'll be thinking about the journey that brought me to Kona. NOX was nominated for the Bruce Alexander Memorial Historical Mystery Award, and what an amazing, incredible honor to be listed with fabulous writers I admire so much: Rhys Bowen, Laurie R. King and Tasha Alexander. And I'll be thinking about my family and friends, and how they teamed up to figure out the economics of getting me to the Big Island. And I'll be thinking about the writing community, and what a wonderful, generous and supportive group it is, and how privileged I am to be a part of it.

I'll be thinking about noir, too--I'll be giving a talk about film noir for one of the "Talk Stories" at LCC, fifteen minutes of author freedom. And I'll be researching and writing, too.

Above all, I'll be giving thanks. No, it's not November ... and yes, I'm a noir writer. But writing about noir also means being able to appreciate what we have and how lucky we are to have it.

I'm also thankful that I wasn't a writer when Dorothy Parker was a reviewer ... I came across this quote the other day: "This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force." I don't know the book she was describing--and that's exactly the point. ;)

Noir City Wrap Up

2009-02-18T18:18:00.000-08:00

Those who know me know I take film noir very seriously. I was honored to find our friends at The Rap Sheet give a nod to WID and my Noir City reporting in late January. And then ... and then ...

What happened? Did I drop off a log? Did my fedora fall over my eyes? Did I (gasp) not go to the festival?

None of the above. What happened was ... well ... there's no other way to explain it. GOOD NEWS. And--as any noirhead knows--good news--particularly the kind of toe-squirming, technicolor, Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland and Busby Berkeley musical dream-come-true good news--is not conducive to the dark and usually wet streets of Noirville.

Here's what happened. Right before the last weekend of the festival, I accepted a two-book deal with Thomas Dunne/St Martin's Minotaur for my 1940 San Francisco PI noir, RICE BOWL. And, to tell you the truth, I've been feeling a little, well, musical-ish ever since. More like Maria in The Sound of Music than Mildred in Mildred Pierce. More like the first book's Harry Potter than the fifth's. I am thrilled beyond belief, and wake up telling myself that it's real and it's fabulous, and that it's not all a flashback from an unreliable narrator.

So naturally, I had to let some time pass before I could stop seeing rainbows and properly tackle my normal habitat. I write noir, after all. And RICE BOWL is both of the noir world and upends it. But more on it--lots more on it--later. We've got time, and this post is for the smash-bang closeout of the greatest film festival in the world.

Now keep in mind that I'm still a working girl, and I unfortunately can't see everything. I squeezed in Thursday to see The Big Clock (1948) on the big screen, and a treat it was. Based on the terrific novel by Kenneth Fearing (I bought a tattered first edition last year)--the movie was shot beautifully by the underrated John Farrow (Mia's dad--he married Maureen O'Sullivan, a co-star in the film, during the shooting).

Ray Milland was charming, debonair and reassuringly confident in the midst of tension (the script sported several light-hearted touches), Charles Laughton was delightfully controlling and villanous, femme fatale Rita Johnson (They Won't Believe Me) more appealing than the rather pallid Maureen, George Macready (the creepy Nazi Ballin in Gilda) appropriately smarmy, and Elsa Lanchester stole every scene she was in with a comic role as an artiste. Rounding out the cast was Henry Morgan as a murderous masseur/thug (and if you've only thought of him as Sherman Potter, prepare yourself) and Louis van Rooten as a radio actor (which he was in real life).

For me, the real star of the movie was the set design by Hans Dreier, which was truly a marvel to behold. Sort of prefigures the Bond sets in terms of size equalling threat, yet with a Deco panache that was quite beautiful. All in all, a classic, and not to be missed.

Perhaps even more enjoyable (and like The Big Clock, this was not my first viewing of the film) was the Claude Rains' vehicle The Unsuspected (1947), which aired the next evening.

Why Michael Curtiz has never been accorded auteur status is due to the fact that he was brilliant in every genre. Here, his Expressionist background in light and dark gradually draw us into a gothically forbidding world of dread and suspense. Rains has never been better or more charming. The plot concerns a radio show host (think of "Suspense" or "Escape" or "The Whistler" if you know classic radio) whose secretary is found hanging above his desk. But we know it's not suicide from a brilliant opening sequence that makes full use of the audio and visual to create a panoply of noir beauty and thrills.

Audrey Totter steals every scene she's in ... sashaying around and calling everyone "lover" but her husband. Constance Bennett proves wonderful and an equal scene-stealer in an Eve Arden like role. The movie is so well-directed and acted by these three--and the always enjoyable noir heavy Jack Lambert--that you overlook the woodenness of Michael North, who apparently retired from acting after making it. Hurd Hatfield (title role in The Picture of Dorian Gray) chews the bar in half as the debauched painter husband of Audrey. And Joan Caulfield is charming, if not particularly memorable, as Rain's niece. But it really works ... and it's not on DVD but occasionally is shown on TCM, so watch for it!

Second billing that night was Desperate (1947), which I've also seen (this is what comes of watching noir all the time), albeit not on a big screen. An early Anthony Mann effort, the cinematography and shot set ups prefigure his greatest work, and the film is worth seeing if only for one spectacular "interrogation" scene by gangster Raymond Burr. Steve Brodie plays a truck driver gulled into participating in a heist. After a threat to his wife (the appealing Audrey Long), he's determined to get her somewhere safe before going to the cops (even if it means stealing cars along the way). His character makes the words "trust me" a bit comical, but the film is great entertainment, with a lot of interesting touches (a Czech wedding!).

Finally, my last foray into Noir City was the Fritz Lang thriller Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (1956). Again, this was the second time I'd watched the film, and on the big screen--and with a second viewing--my appreciation and admiration for it grew enormously ... just as Foster Hirsh, who introduced the film along with Noir Czar Eddie Muller, said it would. Joan Fontaine is the independent love interest of a writer (and I've got to say, I really enjoyed the lines about deadlines and writing and publishing) played by the always noirish Dana Andrews. Her father--his soon-to-be father-in-law--is a newspaper man vehemently opposed to capital punishment (Sidney Blackmer). Dad's got a great idea--how about if someone innocent frames himself for murder, gets convicted, is sentenced to death, and then produces evidence of innocence ... wouldn't that prove the folly of relying on circumstantial evidence and make people hesitate before sending convicts to the chair? Sure it would, Dad-in-law ... sure it would.

The film has been remade for release later this year, with Michael Douglas and the young Amber Tamblyn, who has the excellent taste to name The Asphalt Jungle as one of her favorite movies. Director/writer Peter Hyams also helmed the Gene Hackman/Anne Archer remake of The Narrow Margin. So see the original before you see the remake.

And watch it more than once ... it's really terrific, though filmed on an incredibly cheap budget. As a bonus, the delightful Barbara Nichols--real life former model and burlesque queen, always memorable and a scene-stealer in The Sweet Smell of Success--plays the role of (you guessed it) a stripper. She steals these scenes, too.

The festival closed with The latter film--maybe Burt Lancaster's greatest performance--and a new print of The Killers ... but alas, it was a Sunday, and I was wrapped up in work and good news.

I'll be back with more films noir--and more of everything--later. In the meatime, keep your cigarettes dry and your bourbon wet, and if someone asks you to frame yourself ... think twice!

Noir City, Night Two: What a Dahl!

2009-01-25T18:36:00.000-08:00

The loyal denizens of Noir City were treated to a visit by Hollywood Royalty last night. The Film Noir Foundation and a sold-out theater of 1,407 lucky film-goers paid tribute to the legendary Arlene Dahl, va-va-va voom girl and wonderful actress. What a night ... and what a Dahl!

The evening began with an ode to nostalgia: this year, as part of the Newspaper Noir theme, newspaper boys--and girls--dressed in the archetypal hat and knickers of legend, roam the waiting lines of the festival, hawking free Noir City programs to eager ticket holders. Last night they yelled "Extra, Extra--Arlene Dahl in person between shows!" It's a great gimmick, and the kids were wonderful ... and I'm betting it helped sell a few more Chronicles and New York Times, too.

Ms. Dahl arrived to applause from the hundreds of people waiting in line, accompanied by her husband, Marc Rosen, and actor son, the gallant and handsome Lorenzo Lamas. A bit later, passport holders were allowed into the theater for a fabulous reception, complete with cocktails made with the official Noir City spirits Rain Vodka and Eagle Rare Bourbon (my poison was bourbon and soda, natch), and a sumptuous feast of hors d'oeuvres. Ms. Dahl, as gorgeous as ever, graciously signed autographs and posed for pictures, while her family watched proudly.

Then ... the movie. WICKED AS THEY COME (1956) was a star vehicle for Ms. Dahl, showcasing not just her amazing beauty, but her formidable talent. She portrays an impoverished, working-class girl who scrambles over a chain of men into a rich marriage ... only to have her past catch up to her with disastrous results. What do you expect? This is Noir City, baby!

The film is reminiscent of the pre-code Stanwyck masterpiece Baby Face, but offers an interesting twist (and one that indicates how obsessive filmmakers were with psychology and juvenile delinquency in the mid-'50s): Ms. Dahl's character, Kathy Allen, harbors an emotional block against intimacy and a pathological hatred of men not because she is as "wicked as they come", but because she was the victim of a horrendous crime in her early adolescence. Heady stuff--and Ms. Dahl's performance was perfect.

Philip Carey and Herbert Marshall ably rounded out the star list, and the film was sumptously filmed--on location in Britain--by Basil Emmott. Director Ken Hughes may be more famous for his British Double Indemnity noir, The House Across the Lake (1954) -- and for directing the only Ian Fleming musical, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968) -- but WICKED AS THEY COME is a wonderful piece of filmmaking, and a shining example of Ms. Dahl's tremendous talent.

After the credits, the screen segued to a delightful series of film clips from Ms. Dahl's films, everything from song and dance numbers (Three Little Words) to melodrama (Woman's World) to historical noir (Reign of Terror--shown at last year's Noir City) to fantasy adventure (Journey to the Center of the Earth). Audience favorite was probably the steamy clip from Sangaree (1953), in which she co-starred with husband Fernando Lamas. What made it even more memorable is the fact that Lorenzo had never seen his mother on the big screen before last night.

Noir Czar Eddie Muller then brought Ms. Dahl to the stage for a champagne toast and a tremendous standing ovation. Gracious, delightful, and a mesmerizing conversationalist, Ms. Dahl discussed her origins in show business, her work, her equally legendary co-stars, and paid tribute to both the Castro's own beauty as a movie palace and to the adoring audience. The time passed too quickly ... and after another standing ovation, Ms. Dahl and her family made their way out of the theater, accompanied by the sound of applause and the hearts of 1,407 habitues of Noir City.

The second film then aired: a technicolar and Super Scope 1956 feast called SLIGHTLY SCARLET, starring Ms. Dahl and friend and fellow redhead Rhonda Fleming. If you don't think noir can be shot in color, think again. John Alton--probably the foremost master of shadow and light to grace Hollywood--made the oranges and greens and blues and purples as lurid as a black and white Bowery gutter.

The story was ostensibly based on James M. Cain's Love's Lovely Counterfeit, but the script rambled, sometimes into incoherency. The plot involved the ostensible clean-up of a crooked Bay City by "publicity man" John Payne, who is actually an underling of the mob boss his clean-up machinations overthrows. He uses his knowledge of Rhonda's relationship with the newly-elected goody-two shoes Mayor (she's his secretary--and what a secretary!) and her younger sister's klepto- and nymphomania (played to the delicious and perfect hilt by Ms. Dahl) to manipulate them into helping him with his coup.

The problem is that despite Payne's charisma and able performance, his motivation is unclear and underwhelming, and the movie doesn't flesh out Cain's plot well enough to make you sympathize with him. Ted de Corsia turns in his usual spectacular character performance as the overthrown Little Caesar, but Ms. Dahl, as Dorothy Lyons, steals the show ... and not just in her leopard print swim suit, but in a captivating, convincing performance of mental illnesss that made me wish she'd been able to play Carmen Sternwood in The Big Sleep.

Veteran director Allan Dwan wisely kept the camera on the eye-popping scenery--Rhonda and Ms. Dahl against a symphonic technicolor backdrop. SLIGHTLY SCARLET may have suffered from a weak script, but with star power like that, you can quote Robert Mitchum in Out of the Past ... "Baby, I don't care."

I'm a working girl, so I've got to leave the mean streets for a few days, hopefully to return on Thursday. In the meantime, keep your powder dry and watch out for redheads ... they spell terrific trouble in Noir City!

That's the Press, Baby! - Noir City Opening Night

2009-01-24T12:41:00.000-08:00

Last night it rained in San Francisco. It always rains in San Francisco for two weeks in January--when she opens the Golden Gate to murder, lust, corruption and cheap cigarettes.

Yes, it was Noir City night at the Castro Theater, and Bay Area residents let the rain drops drip from their fedoras, and sauntered over to a sold-out movie palace to pay tribute to urban poetry. Noir Czar and Czarina Eddie Muller and Anita Monga have programmed a punchy, timely and provocative theme this year--Newspaper Noir, from the days when the press didn't mean smarmy, politicized gossip from ill-educated and attention-seeking hacks.

... or did it?

One thing a steady dose of noir will teach you--and I've been dipping into it for a long, long time--is that the more things change, the more they stay the same. So last night we were treated to two films that dealt with the distintegration of news to sensationalism and the tawdry manipulation of fear and wish-fulfilment ala "reality tv" ... only the year was 1952.

Just as the internet threatens -- and some would say, has sealed the fate -- of the printed "wuxtry!" that was the most popular and affordable media of its time, back in the early '50s the threat was TV. And then--as now--the owners of said news outlets wrestled with what to do.

The first film, Richard Brook's DEADLINE--USA, is an obit for the ethical newspaper man ... the current editor and now-deceased owner who believed in the power of the press and in the dignity of the human being. In newspapers that function as social outlets, the voice in the wilderness crying for reform, the byline that isn't afraid to speak the truth to the masses, not just cater to their taste for sensationalism.

And what a movie ... no film about the press captures its allure and its power and the Sophie's Choice of its purpose--to report or to exploit?--better than DEADLINE. Only the sardonic comedy of The Front Page and its remake, His Girl Friday, comes close at all.

Richard Brooks (Brute Force) wrote a snap-crackle screenplay, sharp with wit and observation, and matched it with flawless direction. Humphrey Bogart is perfect casting as the epitome-of-decency editor, Ethel Barrymore also perfect as the owner's widow who regains her self-respect and fighting spirit in battling to save the paper her husband founded. No one--and I mean no one--ever played those parts as well as Ethel, my favorite of the Barrymores.

The always believable Kim Hunter rounds out the stars of the cast as Bogie's ex-wife, but the film really sang with stellar performances by some terrific character actors. Fleshing out the roles of reporters were Paul Stewart (Citizen Kane, The Window, Kiss Me Deadly) perfect as the tough sports writer, Jim Backus in an understated and convincing performance as the gossip man, Warren Stevens as a cub reporter determined to get the story, Broadway actress Audrey Christie as the hardboiled press dame, and Ed Begley as Bogie's right-hand man. Martin Gable owned the part of Rienzi, the untouchable city crime boss, and never overplayed a moment (it's the kind of role Rod Steiger would have chewed to bits).

Uncredited and virtually unknown actress Kasia Orzazewski portrayed the immigrant mother of a crime victim and dominated a moving scene late in the film. This was a character actress made for noir. Though her filmography is unfortunately tiny, she played small but memorable bits in three other top-notch noirs: Call Northside 777, Thieves' Highway (one of the very best) and I Was a Communist for the FBI.

Watch DEADLINE-USA if you can catch it on TCM, and advocate for its release on DVD. It's a truly great film, and a loving ode to the power of the press ... baby.

SCANDAL SHEET rounded out the opening night double-feature, and Broderick Crawford--always a superb actor--makes a dynamic and convincing editor, one who can recognize the merit of a story to emotionally manipulate the "slobs" that increase his tabloid's circulation. Yes, ladies and gentlemen--this was tabloid "journalism", and the year was 1952.

"Yellow" journalism is something you might remember hearing about in your high school history class, often linked with the name "Hearst". While Bogart and his paper recognized the power of the press and lived up to the moral responsibilities that came with it, Crawford and his Board of Directors -- despite hypocritical complaints about "immorality"--recognized the power and exploited the hell out of it.

Give the public what it wants ... a sucker is born every minute ... you get the idea. The more lurid the content, the more cheap and tawdry and trashy the stories, the more exploitative of people's victimization or misfortune, the more the circulation numbers shoot up--up--and up. It's Noir City, baby ... and it's also tomorrow's headline.

Ironically, Crawford's downfall begins with his reality-show-type creation of a Lonelyhearts Club, purely a publicity stunt designed to prey on the saps. It all seems so (unfortunately) modern--but Queen for a Day had been around for years (radio and then television), and no other show before--and possibly, since--so shamelessly milked false sentiment from dried up mammary ducts.

SCANDAL SHEET'S twists are many, and they all start to tighten around Crawford's thick neck. Y'see, he kills his ex-wife, covers it up, and then his star cub reporter--the dreadful John Derek--decides to solve the crime ... all in the name of circulation.

Donna Reed is terrific as the moral yet sexy good girl, Rosemary de Camp gives the performance of her life as Crawford's ex-wife, Harry Morgan is acid and biting as the cynical photographer, and character actors Henry O'Neill and Griff Barnett give excellent performances as two men who pull Crawford's noose ever tighter. And there are some amazing shots of amazing character faces playing rummies in the Bowery. As Morgan acerbically observes, "That does it--I'm not taking another drink."

SCANDAL SHEET, ably directed by Phil Karlson (Kansas City Confidential) and based on a Sam Fuller novel, only fell short with its second lead John Derek. Though he offered a brash sort of energy reminiscent of Tom Cruise, Derek was completely unconvincing in every role I've ever seen, and this, sadly, was no exception. Possibly cast to capitalize on his earlier portrayal of Crawford's son in All the King's Men, an actual actor would have been a much better choice. Still, the film's treasures outweigh Derek's feather-light performance.

Noir City continues tonight with a tribute to leading lady Arlene Dahl, and yours truly will be back with more ... for now, pay honor to the power of the press ... quit reading this blog and buy a newspaper, baby!

Aloha!

2009-01-22T18:14:00.000-08:00

Before Noir City starts tomorrow and I immerse myself in amour fou, sweaty obsession and rain-darkened streets, I have to indulge in something on the opposite end of the spectrum ... purely joyful and purely heart-warming.

So what am I talking about ... a Capra movie? The end of The Christmas Carol? An episode of The Waltons?

Thankfully--at least regarding The Waltons--no. I'm talking about the amazing generosity and support that exists in the crime writing community. It's not the first time I've encountered it, but for the last two days I've been privileged to be dramatically reminded of it.

Here's the story: my first book--NOX DORMIENDA--was nominated for the Bruce Alexander Memorial Mystery Award. And it's in the company of writers I deeply admire and friends I deeply care about--Rhys Bowen, Tasha Alexander, Laurie King. I am stunned, honored and humbled.

Since the announcement yesterday, I've spent a lot of time responding with thanks to the well-wishes and voices of encouragement and support that have poured in ... and again, I shake my head in wonder at the sheer niceness of this industry. At talks, the audience always laughs whenever I mention that crime writers are the most wonderful--and just plain nicest-- people in the world. But it's true. Criminal minds, warm hearts. :)

To top off all this, the generosity of friends and family is what is allowing me to say "aloha" to Hawaii ... to actually go to Left Coast Crime, which just two weeks ago was beyond my reach.

I've started to do my research, and just discovered "aloha" also means love.

Somehow, that's fitting.

The Random 16

2009-01-18T11:34:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, I was tagged for another meme-thing on Facebook ... Linda Richards, top-notch idea woman that she is, inspired me to reuse it here. I like the idea of reuse, make do or mend ... why limit a perfectly good meme to the Facebook environment?

Like everyone else apparently, I'm excited about the Inauguration. I'll be recording it for viewing after work. And I'm hoping that the number of newspaper special editions it sells will help keep our remaining dailies in business ...

Speaking of which, Noir City is this Friday, January 23rd ... Noir City, a font of inspiration and sweaty, heady obsession ... Noir City, the premiere film festival in the world, the dreamchild of the desperate, the deranged and the dangerous. Noir City. The name says it all, baby. And of course I'll be there, holding my Noir City passport. No shots this year--I've been inoculated before.

This year's theme ties in with the sad decline of journalism and the inky magic of tangible print--yes, it's Newspaper Noir, and the lead film is the Humphrey Bogart vehicle Deadline, USA. Noir Czar Eddie Muller's father was a byline sports columnist for the San Francisco Examiner, and believe you me, these films will all pack a nostalgic wallop of the long-gone world of real journalism ... you know, before news became merely opinion.

Somehow, Eddie always pulls rabbits and magic out of his many hats ... this year's festival will be really special (and Arlene Dahl is the guest!), so forget economic news or post-holiday blues--find a million dollar baby at San Francisco's Castro Theater, because Noir Days Are Here Again.

One more thing before the meme: I was saddened to learn that Ricardo Montalban passed away. A charming, ever-urbane man of wonderful talent, charisma and personal appeal, he enriched a bleak television landscape with fun and fantasy, and graced a number of good films with his presence. One of them was a hard-hitting noir, helmed by Anthony Mann and lensed by John Alton: Border Incident. Coincidentally, it's airing on TCM on the opening date of Noir City (Friday, January 23rd), so if you can't come to San Francisco, you can pay tribute to both noir and Montalban by watching this fine film. I'll post a review of it soon ... in the meantime, see the trailer here.

Now ... the sixteen bits of personal trivia. I was originally tagged by legal eagle and thriller writer Ken Isaacson, and the MWA Maven herself, Margery Flax.

1. Ken now owes me at least two drinks at the next conference for getting "The Pina Colada Song" stuck in my head.

2. Confession: I'm a sap for any song that features classic Hollywood ... "Bette Davis Eyes" ... "Vogue" ... and, yes, even "Key Largo" (We had it all ... just like Bogie and Bacall!)

3. I was the only girl in my kindergarten play. I played the little billy goat in The Three Billy Goats Gruff--and not knowing that billy meant male, I wore a pastel dress and a hair ribbon.

4. When I was six I wanted to be a paleontologist.

5. My mother tells me I used to love the Beatles when I was a baby.

6. My first pony's name was Sugarfoot. My second pony's name--when we moved to Florida--was Rascal. My first horse's name was Mahalia. And my mom knew Mahalia Jackson.

7. I am very proud of whistling well.

8. I collect comic books and paper ephemera from the '30s and '40s for research and pleasure.

9. My Mae West impression won the role of the courtesan in The Comedy of Errors for me.

10. I'm an incurable Romantic. That's why I write noir.

11. I almost attended UC San Diego and was accepted there as a Chemistry major ... I thought about becoming a cosmochemist.

12. I attended the University of Dallas on a scholarship as a Drama major instead.

13. I'm the first person in my family to graduate from college.

14. I'm a coal miner's granddaughter.

15. My background is half Polish and half English, Irish, and Scottish with some Choctaw thrown in.

16. I refuse to eat viscera, but I love escargot.

Got a trivium or two? Share some of your own!

The Meming of it All

2009-01-11T12:02:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure that "meming" is a word -- but it's January, so new words are allowed. How else do little dictionaries grow?

This is the month of Noir City and post-holiday cookie sales ... a month of anticipation, back-to-the-gym promises, of hope and resolve and potential. Of dark, rainy streets projected in glorious 35mm on the Castro Theater screen, of sunshine in San Francisco backyards, and a new inauguration for a New Deal and a New Day in Washington.

You can probably tell I like January.

This week, I'm meming ... it's a receding economy, and in the spirit of "make do and mend", and "reduce, reuse, recycle", later this week I'll post a meme originally created on Facebook. Today, though, I've got a new one for which I was tagged by that talented dame of hardboiled fiction, Linda L. Richards.

You may possibly be wondering exactly what a "meme" is. In the context of Bloggerville, it's one of those response-oriented lists that float from tagger to tagger, wherein you list five foods you won't eat, seventeen most embarrassing moments, seven times you've broken the law or three impossible things before breakfast.

You know the kind of thing. Here's a link to more specific definitions, but their real purpose is to save a busy blogging world a lot of time and let you discover trivia about other people.

So--drum roll, please ... What book, movie and television show makes you cry the most?

(And keep in mind that I give good weep. From the "Old Yeller cry" (the horrible cry of loss) to "La Marseillaise cry" (the choked up cry of sentiment, in this case over the singing of the Marseillaise in Casablanca), I cry at, over and for a lot of things.)

Book: I might cry over my own if I get a particularly nasty review. I first read Tess of the D'Urbervilles, The Return of the Native, and Jude the Obscure (all by Thomas Hardy) as a young woman (and re-read them subsequently), and I cried buckets. The sound of my tears used to wake my mother up in the middle of the night. They're among the most powerful novels in English, and Jude the Obscure, hands-down, is the most gut-wrenchingly devasting book I've ever read. Only Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath comes close.

Two more get honorable mentions: Upton Sinclair's The Jungle and Ayn Rand's We, the Living. The latter was one of my favorite books, and I used to harbor dreams of making it into a movie (I'm far from being a political disciple of Rand's, but she was one hell of a writer.)

A special section might be devoted to children's literature: I cried over the Harry Potter saga as an adult, and as a kid used to wail over Charlotte's Web.

Movie: The aforementioned Casablanca scene always makes me cry. But It's A Wonderful Life makes me cry from the opening scene, just in anticipation (voiceovers of various cast members are praying for George Bailey). I avoid sad animal movies entirely. Crying is a catharsis, and if you've experienced the loss of a beloved pet, you realize crying doesn't help. I don't need an entertainment vehicle to remind me of it.

Television Shows: TV mostly makes me cry in horror--especially the "Queen for a Day" reality programming. Most television--which, when I was growing up, was all network--is presented in bite-size chunks, making it much more difficult to sustain the emotional connection necessary. So I don't think I've cried at TV since the last, farewell episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show. And for some reason, probably related to why I'm a noir writer, Carol Burnett used to make me teary whenever she dragged out that damn old bucket to play the scrub-woman. I'm sure I would've cried at the last episode of MASH, too, but I was rehearsing for a play in college--and the little (#$^@ student director thought that directing meant being a dictator, and forced us to miss the episode. This in the days of no TiVO. I'm still holding a grudge.

Quid pro quo time: I'm tagging Laura Benedict, Jennie Bentley, Rebecca Cantrell, Bill Cameron, and Alex Sokoloff. And Linda, right back atcha. Memes away, guys! :)

A Wonderful Year

2008-12-31T18:12:00.000-08:00

You know the old saw: if you fall off a horse, get back on right away, or your fear will talk you out of it. As someone who grew up with horses, I can testify to the truth of this particular bit of hoary wisdom.

I've fallen off of Writing in the Dark of late. And--though it's partly due to my impacted schedule of writing deadlines (my third novel), book tours, conferences and promotion--not to mention a day job and ubiquitous chores--it's partly my fault, too. I'm a perfectionist--I like my blog to be a miniature sketch, complete with images, and if I'm too tired or too harried to make it that way, I tend to put it off.

Well, no longer. I'm also not one for resolutions (I detest the damn things), so call this a realization. The truth is that if I wait until I have the time, I'll never get it done. I'll be around more often and more consistently next year ... and in the meantime, here's what I've been doing:

October was Bouchercon. Crimespree's Jon and Ruth Jordan and Judy Bobalik did a superhuman and tremendous job--nirvana for a conference junkie like me. I participated in two panels (one as moderator) and a marvelous author's showcase with a group of buddies. Had a blast with a lot of friends. Attended my first Shamus dinner, paid respects to Mr. Poe. About the only thing I missed was hanging out with Sandra Ruttan and having coffee with Declan Burke--both of which are must-dos the next chance I get.

After B-con I was the guest of the lovely Sisters in Crime in Sacramento, participated in a library panel in Corcord, was the guest on an hour-long radio segment of Goddess Radio (American First Radio and KCAA San Bernadino) with Midnight Bookworm Vin Smith and Panney Wei, was the guest SinC speaker at the Gilroy library, read at the SinC Fall Soiree at San Francisco's Books Inc, celebrated the 100th birthday of John's Grill (home of The Maltese Falcon), and rang in holiday cheer at the annual MWA/SinC party at M is for Mystery.

I also finished my third book--a very dark, sweeping PI novel set in 1940 San Francisco. A big book. We're hoping to see it with a big publisher, so we're crossing everything that can be crossed, and a few things that probably shouldn't be.

The year has been capped with a homecoming. I grew up in northern Mendocino/southern Humboldt Counties (northern California)--spent junior high and high school there. My parents live in the northern part of the county now, near Eureka. I had a signing at Borders in Eureka after Christmas that was more like a party and reunion--old friends from high school, former teachers, friends I haven't seen in more than twenty years, colleagues who volunteer with my mom. David Dun, best-selling thriller author, Treasurer and one of the wonderful founders of ITW (International Thriller Writers) has a home in the area, and came to cheer me on--it was amazing and truly special! The Eureka Times Standard did me the honor of placing NOX on the front page, too--here's the link:
http://www.times-standard.com/ci_11312832?IADID=Search-www.times-standard.com-www.times-standard.com

After the signing, I was the guest at the lovely home of a lovely woman who hosts a book club. In one of those "it's a small world" moments, I learned that Marsha Hunt--whose grace, radiance and star turn in Eddie Muller's The Grand Inquisitor I wrote about last January (it's almost time for the next Noir City!)--had also been a guest. I met a friend of Ms. Hunt's and an absolutely lovely group of ladies. What a fantastic way to close the year.

For me, 2008 will always be the year my first book was published. It's been quite a journey. It has been an honor to meet readers, booksellers and librarians--an honor to know people in places I've never been and may never see are reading NOX DORMIENDA. It leaves me with a breathless feeling, one of gratitude and humility.

I'm extraordinarily thankful to be a part of the writing community ... friends and colleagues so talented, generous and giving that I wind up feeling like George Bailey every day. As I look ahead to 2009--with a new grog to debut soon (more details next week!), more work with MWA and ITW and SinC, another novel to research, and the second Arcturus book to revise--and hope on the horizon for a contract with a bigger house--I'm thankful to be where I am, ensconced in what is--to me--a wonderful life.

Thanks, all of you, for making 2008 a year to remember! Happy New Year--here's to a great 2009! :)

At Long Last ... Blog!

2008-10-21T16:48:00.000-07:00

Bless me, bloggers, for I have sinned ... it has been mmmpfh (hand over mouth) days since my last blog.

Much has happened, and I'm going to spend a couple of days catching up. I finished my third novel, which is the main reason I haven't been hanging around Writing in the Dark. My third is a big dark book set in 1940 San Francisco, and I needed to complete it before Bouchercon. I managed to do so, but literally had no time left over for blogging, reading, email, eating a proper meal, and sleep. I left bread crumbs of my activities on Twitter, and plan to stick to my regularly scheduled blogging programming from now on, though life may somtimes pre-empt me.

I traveled to LA and San Diego and back on a book tour ... via US 101 ... a wonderful trip along El Camino Real, the old historic route of the King's Highway, mission to mission, bell to bell. Salinas lettuce fields (Salad Capital of the World!), the Santa Ynez mountains ... the drive makes you appreciate the the real gold of California, and it's not the yellow stuff in vaults.

Mysteries to Die For in Thousand Oaks and The Mystery Bookstore in Los Angeles are fantastic places to shop and spend time and meet people. Alan and Bobby are absolutely wonderful ... and two reasons why I love to support independent bookstores as both a reader and a writer. I was privileged to appear at both stores, and very happy to be The Mystery Bookstore's Discovery Club pick of the month.

I met friends from Crimespace and Sisters in Crime, including my author friend Mari Sloan, who has written a terrific mystery (Beaufort Falls), and Mari's wonderful husband, and Travis Richardson, former NorCal MWA member who just moved south. Spent a delightful evening with producer/director/screenwriter pal Victoria Larimore in West Hollywood. Stopped along the way in Salinas, ate a fantastic breakfast at Sang's Cafe (where Steinbeck used to throw one back occasionally), and lunch in Solvang at the Little Mermaid.

We eventually managed to thread our way through Malibu Canyon, Malibu and Santa Monica before taking rest in our favorite SoCal home away from home, The Culver Hotel.

After a signing at the Gaslamp Borders in San Diego, we headed home the next morning, and breakfasted at Andersen's Pea Soup in Buellton (a few miles from Solvang) ... you haven't lived until you've tried pea soup for breakfast! You get eggs and Danish sausage and pancakes, too, but that soup ... mmm. :) Late lunch was again in Salinas, at a terrific newly-opened restaurant (family-owned) called Habanero. Literally the best beans and rice I've had since undergraduate years in Texas.

Oh, and Solvang? You haven't eaten Danish until you eat Danish there. Really. We're talking melt-in-your mouth, light-as-air crust, real fruit filling ... let's just say this was a memorable trip on every level, and I can't wait to get back. :)

So then I wrote. And wrote and wrote. And finished what I call "my Bouchercon baby," a novel begun after Alaska and finished before Baltimore.

And speaking of Baltimore, host city for this year's Bouchercon ... well, that deserves its own post. Be back tomorrow with more on Charm City and 1,400 reasons why the crime/mystery/thriller writer life is the one for me!

Lists, Picks and a Pre-Code Delight

2008-09-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

I'm long overdue, but it's nice to be home.

One of my autumn resolutions (always a good time for resolutions--forget January) is to blog each and every week. Probably on a Sunday or Monday ... and I intend to keep said resolution, even if the road to Washington, D.C. is paved with them ...

So what have I been doing? What does that title mean? How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?

Just a little over a week ago, I headed north to the great state of Washington (I can say that with sincerity--I was born there, in Tacoma, the "City of Destiny." And yes, that is what Tacoma is known as, so there.) That's Mt. Ranier in the photo, by the way.

Had the great good fortune and wonderful time of signing books at the Seattle Mystery Bookshop, the premiere place for crime fiction in the state, and one of the top mystery stores in the U.S. J.B, Gretchen and Fran make three hours seem like three minutes -- awesomely fun people!! We laughed, talked about theme songs, and listened to J.B.'s terrific "Spy Mix" of movie and television themes. Where else can you rock out to Thunderball or Mission Impossible while you're signing books?

I saw an old friend from comic book store days (Adam Barnes, ultra-cool guy and publisher of Perilous Press) and met a new friend, Christina Arbini, a romance writer who is set to rock the world with her amazing books.

In other words, I had an incredible afternoon, and can't wait to get back. And then, this Friday, The Seattle Times posted the best-selling mystery lists from SMBS, and ... I was on it! Five Star is a small press, and not known for its ease in bookstore ordering (euphemistically speaking) ... so to be on the list (#5) was a complete surprise and a total highpoint! Topping off the good news, today the monthly list for August was released, and NOX DORMIENDA was #7 for the month, tied with James Lee Burke's (!) SWAN PEAK. Holy Moley! And my home state, too! Thanks, guys!! Seattle Mystery Bookshop is the best!!

So back to the tour ... I took Amtrak from Seattle ("The Emerald City") to Portland, to sign at the wonderful Murder by the Book. This is one of the nicest bookstores you'll ever step inside ... Jean, Carolyn, Barb, Nick and Ted are so helpful and so knowledgeable, I defy anyone to leave without buying something. I am so thankful to have done a signing, and like Seattle, can't wait to go back! To make selections easy, the store is organized by type of detective ... unique and creative! I had a delightful afternoon, talking to a high school classmate (Hi, Tiffany!), a friend of a friend, and hanging around with the reason why Portland should be your number one destination in the Northwest: Bill Cameron.

Bill's my special buddy, and took us on a LOST DOG tour of the city. So I finally got to see the places that creeped me out in his kick-butt book. And snag a bite in the cool Hawthorne District, where the store is located. And take a train out of the oldest continuously operated station in the country, beautifully restored. Sigh. Portland was wonderful! (As you can see in the photo, LOST DOG and NOX DORMIENDA are blessed with supernatural energy).

I didn't have too much time to miss the NW, though. Two days after returning, I had a library panel with fellow authors Dana Fredsti, David Fitzgerald, Peter Gessner and Rebecca Dixon. We had a grand old time -- pure fun! -- and so well-moderated by Dave that some sort of moderator award needs to be established in his honor. One of the best panels, ever.

And that brings me to my current schedule. I'm heading to LA and San Diego for signings this weekend, to Thousand Oaks and Mysteries to Die For, and The Mystery Bookstore in Los Angeles. Then the downtown San Diego Borders on Sunday to wrap things up. So what about the picks I referred to in my blog title?

Well, M is for Mystery -- where I held my first reading on August 2nd -- has selected me as their "Mystorical" pick for August. I'm in august (OK, I like puns) company ... Denise Hamilton and Salman Rushdie are earlier choices. The Mystery Bookstore has also chosen NOX DORMIENDA as their "September Discovery Club Selection" -- another honor! And Mysteries to Die For describes my book this way: "Kelli Stanley has created an exciting new genre of mystery here, Roman noir. Fast-paced plotting, first person narrative, staccato and hard-boiled prose are utilized to full effect. This series debut is one that will be talked about all year."

I've been feeling much more cozy than noir lately, more like Gidget than Gloria. And I can't wait to get to LA and San Diego and thank these amazing, supportive and wonderful bookstores in person!

OK, so now we come to the Pre-Code Delight: Man's Castle, a 1933 Frank Borzage film with Spencer Tracy and a 20 year-old Loretta Young. I caught it on TCM the other night, and it was fantastic.

Spencer and Loretta live in a shanty town in Central Park, along with the other discarded people of the Great Depression. Spencer takes odd jobs and keeps them in stew; Loretta plays wife. Though, because this is pre-code, they're not married. In fact, the first night they meet, they go skinny-dipping, and they sleep in the same bed.

Yeah, people actually had sex before 1934 and the Hays Code tried to make it illegal.

Anyway, Spence is a man who doesn't want commitments. He doesn't want to be tied down. Loretta is in love with him, and persuades him to buy a stove for their Love Shack on the installment plan ($2 down, $1 a month!). He dallies with gap-toothed Glenda Farrell (filmland's Torchy Blaine). But he buys the stove.

And then ... she tells him she's pregnant. Yup, they had unmarried sex. Twenty years later they would die for it. But pre-code, no worries. They are "married" by an ex-preacher, also from Hooverville.

She even mentions something about getting rid of the baby if it would make him happy ... and doesn't use the word adopt. But Spence decides to run out on her, first throwing in with a real villain (a rapist type with designs on Loretta) to rob a toy shop safe, so she'll be provided for.

I won't tell you what happens, but I will tell you this: the characters have a happy ending (as happy as you could have, if you were impoverished in 1933).

You'll have fun counting the "sins" in this film, all of which would be punishable by death or imprisonment, film-wise, the following year. The direction is romantic and lush, as is typical with Borzage; Tracy's acting is breathtakingly natural, and Loretta Young is just breathtaking (and also turns in a great performance).

Films like this make you wonder ... how did the Code change American culture? How did it affect generations of film-goers? Can we blame the code for reality tv?

More next week, after my LA tour ... home sweet home will be the Culver Hotel, next to the old Ince/MGM/RKO studios. Ah, Hollywood! :)

Unsuspected Noir

2008-08-18T18:40:00.000-07:00

So here it is, Monday night. My book just came out (if I repeat it enough it may sink in) ... I spent a wonderful Saturday afternoon at the Hayward Public Library on a Sisters in Crime panel with the lovely and talented Camille Minichino, Michelle Gagnon and Peggy Lucke ... great company, great audience, great library, and terrific hospitality. I'm getting ready for a signing trip to the Seattle Mystery Bookshop and Portland's Murder by the Book. And now, as I type this, I'm waiting for the repairman to tell me what is wrong with our nearly-new dryer.

Yup. It's appliance noir.

Noir strikes you unexpectedly, from the failure of computerized mechanisms we rely on, as well as the rain-streaked and shadowed streets of Los Angeles. Yeah, we've got a graphite colored (you expected white?) top-of-the-line eco-dryer, but appliance noir hits you between the eyes, baby, and kiss your evening (and laundry) goodbye.

At least I've got my blog.

Though situations like this beg for depressing poetry and a bottle of Scotch, I'll refrain. And instead, tell you about The Unsuspected (1947), a deliciously nasty little Warner noir TCM aired the other day.

Directed by Michael Curtiz (Casablanca) and starring the most sympathetic and urbane villain to grace the screen -- Claude Rains -- along with noir stalwarts Audrey Totter (how do you define noir? Audrey Totter) and Jack (The Killers) Lambert, it's a highly charged and extremely suspenseful tale about a radio host of crime dramas who is implicated in some shenanigans of his own.

The opening scene--the first murder--is powerful and chilling film-making, even on a small screen. A bit later, Curtiz makes full use of the power of voice-over, shadows and light, in a tour-de-force sequence showing the effect of Rain's broadcast on a number of characters we've yet to be introduced to. The director does shamelessly purloin Hitchcock's famous teacup shot from Notorious toward the climax of the film, but since Claude Rains is in both movies, I guess he's entitled.

Joan Caulfield is the good girl here (Audrey, of course, plays the slut) and Constance Bennett takes on an Eve Arden-type role, and does it with panache. Ted North's stiffness as a mysterious young man who claims to have married heiress Caulfield is well-suited to the part ... is he Dudley-Do Right or Bar Sinister? Hurd Hatfield (Dorian Gray) ably rounds out the cast as Audrey's debauched and drunken husband.

The script, from a novel by Charlotte Amstrong, snaps and sparkles with lines like these:

Someone comments on the painting of Joan Caulfield above the mantle piece, asking whether it was a particular artist's Blue Period (not Picasso).

Audrey replies: "My husband. His drunk period. Began right after our marriage."

Or Ted North as Steven Howard: "I like matches. You never have to refill them. And when you're through with them, you simply throw them away... like people."

The Unsuspected is another gem thus far unavailable on DVD or video. Look for it on TCM, and don't forget to set your Tivo.

And my own unexpected unsuspected appliance noir? The part won't be in for ten days. Yup, you got it. *Bleeped* on page one.

Two Weeks?!

2008-08-10T13:47:00.000-07:00

Ever notice how time is relative? I don't mean Einstein relativity, or Stephen Hawking's musings on the universe. I mean how it is subjective and personal and relative to you and what you're doing.

I took a look at the date of my last posting, and had one of those animated eyes-bulging, double-take moments. It's been two weeks ... TWO WEEKS!

On one hand, it seems longer than two weeks, because so much has happened. On the other hand, tempus fugit, and flew fast. See ... that's what I mean. Relative and subjective.

Now, before describing why and how I've been Time's fool (to quote Willie S.), I am hereby undertaking an official pledge to keep up with my own blog every week. Here's hoping the old man with the sickle won't be chasing after me, horror-movie style. :)

So what has caused my chronological conundrum? Well, on August 1st, we celebrated a launch party. And quite a fete it was ... Bourbon and Branch, the famed and fabulous speakeasy in San Francisco, provided the setting and the most delicious cocktails this side of Harry's Bar in Venice, circa 1932. And yes, even absinthe was served!

On the menu were two delicious drinks, invented for the event: the Roman Noir (an amarna/mint/honey confection, dark, slightly bitter and delicious), and the Nox Dormienda (dreamy, white, frothy, with citrus and elderflower and an orchid on top). The setting was the library, complete with secret door and amazing ambiance. And I'm proud to say that Bourbon and Branch just won the Best of the Bay award from the San Francisco Bay Guardian.

Diane Kudisch of the San Francisco Mystery Bookstore was my indefatigable and wonderful bookseller ... another Best of the Bay award-winner! So we all had reason to celebrate, and celebrate we did.

But the most important ingredient of all -- that which makes a party a wonderful, memorable time -- the people. I really can't tell you how good it felt to be surrounded by so many friends and colleagues from all the strands of my life ... the writing community to comic store buddies to SF State. And I had the chance to meet new friends, because guests brought other guests!

Local writer-friends from MWA and SinC and ITW and out-of-town friends participating in the RWA conference ... my agent, friends from Red Room (the best space for writers!) ... I could fill up this blog with a list of my wonderful, generous and beautiful guests. Which included, by the way, a contingent of talented Romans dressed in costume, from the Legio X Fretensis.

My beautiful, funny, smart and unique mother was there, of course, and she brought her friends, one of whom drove 250 miles from Fortuna to come. The joint was jumping. I'm posting a few pictures here ... these and many more will soon be up on a new page of my website, a kind of photo scrap book of past events. Hey, with my small house, I need to electronically store my memories! :)

I really felt like George Bailey (at the end, not the beginning). :) I just wish I'd had more time to talk to everyone for longer. And I'm immeasurably grateful to everyone for coming to the party!
I'm writing an article about it ... it was such a special event for me -- a career launch as as well as a book launch -- that I need to give it some more thought and time. More details when done.

The next day was my first book store signing/reading at the terrific M is for Mystery, which was absolutely wonderful. People actually came! I've heard all the stories from the road, and I'm fully expecting to encounter an audience of none for some upcoming event, but I was elated to meet some interesting and terrific readers my first time around. And I picked up a Certificate of Honor from the City and County of San Francisco, signed by our mayor, in recognition of Roman Noir. So my new genre has been officially recognized by my beloved, shimmering jewel of a city. :)

Sunday, a week ago today, I spent the morning with dear friend Jordan Dane, who'd flown out for RWA (and had come to the party). Then I came home and collapsed, exhausted but happy.

The last week has been a return to normalcy, of a kind. Day job. Box dinners. Trying to catch up with all the myriad book stuff I'm behind in, now that Nox is officially and truly out in the world. I'm still behind, but am diligently trying. And writing my WIP.

Thursday night I also had the great fun of guesting on a library panel in Morgan Hill with Terri Thayer and Penny Warner, and getting to see Becky LeVine and Beth Proudfoot again (we'd met at my first-ever conference -- No Crime Unpublished -- last June).

Yesterday was a MWA NorCal meeting at John's Grill, where we were able to hear scintillating stories from legendary female private investigator Sandra Sutherland.

And that brings me to today. Still with too much to do and not enough time to do it in, but I'm adjusting to the new normal, and hoping that Time will be kind. And not in such a damn hurry!

Next week: A small and long overdue post on Nora Prentiss. I'll be in Seattle for a signing at the fabulous Seattle Mystery Bookshop on the August 22nd, too.

Party photos: Bourbon and Branch library, around the bar, Romans!, the uber-talented and wonderful Jordan Dane and sensational Simon Wood, two of the most talented and beautiful and nicest women in the biz, Michelle Gagnon and Heather Graham, and the Czar of Noir, Eddie Muller, looking like a million bucks in white (not black). :)

Countdown ...

2008-07-27T19:54:00.001-07:00

I've got fond memories of Casey Kasem. (And no, your eyes don't deceive you--that's not a picture of Casey.)

Gilda is my favorite film noir, so for book-launch good luck I'm adding photos of Rita as Gilda. Gotta sneak a little film noir in, and it did get your attention ... ;) And thank you, Rita. You can still make an audience hold its breath.

Those Casey memories were not only with the Top 40 Countdown, of course, but as the voice of Shaggy Rogers (yes, Shaggy had a last name ... I'm not sure if "Doo" is Scooby's last name or not) and Robin in various incarnations, most notably the Super Friends.

God, those toys were cool. That Super Friends' Hall of Justice ... the only thing I didn't like about the SFs were those annoying twins. Worse than Snapper Carr in the Silver Age Justice League. Jimmy Olsen clones just never cut it for me ... though I will now officially confess a fondness for the old red-headed photographer himself. Shhh ... don't spread it around, it ruins the noir cred.

Speaking of noir, I've got a long-delayed blog on a film noir coming up after August 1st, when things get back to the new normal. Right now, I'm all-consumed with the launch of my book, and just didn't want to write about a man who frames himself for his own murder. Call me superstitious.

Anyway, I'm thinking of Casey because I've been running through my own series of countdowns. Last Friday, the 18th, my book was officially released into the world, alive and kicking. More stock is coming into Amazon by August 31st, and I'm grateful to them for posting a notice to that effect. Barnes and Noble had it in stock for a couple of days last week, and have run out already.

This bodes well for demand, but I very much wish the supply chain was easier ... distribution can be a challenge for a small press. I am eternally grateful to those readers who have already ordered it from various sources, and those who are waiting patiently. In all sincerity, I can't thank you enough. It's a scary world out there when you're a debut author ... and my biggest goal is to simply be read (and hopefully liked, of course). :)

So back to the countdown ... this week, I'm counting down to my official launch date, August 1st. This is the date of my launch party, hosted by the phenomenal San Francisco speakeasy Bourbon and Branch. Think a gorgeous '20s bar, custom cocktails (the Nox Dormienda and the Roman Noir), Roman soldiers in costume, prizes and a lot of fun. The San Francisco Mystery Bookstore very kindly agreed to be my bookseller for the event. My goal is really to send Nox off to boarding school with the best karma possible, and I'm lucky to have so many friends in town for the RWA conference and attending the party. My other goal is to try to avoid incriminating photos.

And Saturday, August 2nd, the party continues at M is for Mystery in San Mateo, California ... at my first reading/signing/Q&A.

Fortunately, many of my friends have been through this already, so I learned a few tips:

Check your teeth for spinach.
Make sure your fly is zipped.
Bring kleenix.
Musical instruments help (I'm bringing my harmonica).

Yeah, I'm nervous ... what if no one shows up? I can talk to myself (hey, I'm a Gemini!) but I run out of questions pretty quickly. So if you're around at 2 PM, stop in and say hello!

August is going to be busy ... I've got a number of events and a signing tour jog up to my home state, Washington, at the Seattle Mystery Bookshop and in Portland at Murder by the Book. Plus, I'm finishing up a new novel.

But as soon as I can peel myself off the ceiling, where I've been floating, I'll be back on the noir track.

And in the meantime, watch Gilda. It's as good as you remember.

The New York Minute

2008-07-15T18:03:00.001-07:00

Forgive the decidedly un-noirish tones of excitement and exultation, but ...

I'm back from New York and Thrillerfest!

Three days until NOX DORMIENDA is released into the wild!

And I'm taking a blog tour to celebrate ... first stop the fabulous Jungle Red Writers, where the gorgeous and wonderful Hank Phillippi Ryan is my hostess.

Tomorrow I'll be hanging out with my favorite Working Stiffs, and on Friday visiting the BookBitch, where you can win a bunch of terrific thrillers ... I'm thrilled to have my own book included in their company. :)

More blogs to come soon ...

So for now, I'll leave you with a little about Thrillerfest ... and it was so great, so glamorous, so amazing, that I still feel like Leslie Ann Warren in the TV version of Cinderella I grew up with. :)

Everything from January 17, 2007 (my publishing news date) until now seems like a blur ... particularly the last few days in The City, which clicked by like the proverbial NY minute.

Thrillerfest ... the generosity and support ITW has given its Debut Authors is, well, incredible. I mean it. Telling Liz Berry and Kathleen Antrim how I felt about it made me get choked up.

Talking about James M. Cain with the father of the modern thriller, David Morrell. Thanking the wonderful James Rollins and Gayle Lynds and Vicki Hinze for their generous blurbs about NOX. Spending some time with the amazing, warm and wonderful Hank Phillippi Ryan. Sharing a drink with one of my favorite Brits, David Hewson. Getting a chance to thank Lee Child for his mentorship of the program, and M.J Rose for her marketing advice to us, and Joe Moore for being the best web editor around. Sharing a panel with Lynn Sholes and David Liss and Laura Joh Rowland and Doug Abrams and William Martin and Christine Kling.

And hooking up with old friends and Facebook friends and Alaska Bouchercon buddies ... I could fill this entire blog with nothing but names of the wonderful people who are a part of this industry. The very BEST thing about being a writer. :) Meeting Meredith Anthony, charming and hilarious, and the dashing Craig Reed ... taking an overpriced town car (and loving it) to Borders, to see friends and writers Laura Benedict, Michelle Gagnon, Laura Caldwell, Alex Sokoloff, Tim Maleeny, JT Ellison, Shane Gericke, and Mario Acevedo and hear Lee Child's wit in introducing them all.

Hanging out with the wonderful Brent Ghelfi and his gorgeous and wonderful wife Lisa; chatting with the terrific and talented Allison Brennan; sitting at my signing post with the amazing R.L. Stine (and now I know what the R.L. stands for!)

You see what I mean?

Amongst all the specialness was the Debut Author bonding ... both with this year's "class" and next year's. These guys are my colleagues, my team, a close-knit group of classmates. And already I can't wait for the reunions. :)

Here's a Publisher's Weekly link with a photo after the Debut Author Breakfast on Saturday morning. And a shout out to my buds!!

Speaking of media, that was a little dreamlike, too. I did a video interview with Wilda Williams, fiction editor of Library Journal, after the Debut Author breakfast. Hung out with Maria Schneider, the fabu editor of Writer's Digest, in the bar after the banquet (here's a link to a WD newsletter with a picture of me and Raffi Yassayan, fellow debut writer and all-around adorable man). Hooked up with the amazing Jeff Ayres, LJ reviewer and media guru.

So before I start floating off of the floor again, I'd better close ... thanks for reading, and I hope you can join me on one or more locations for the blog tour!

Busy-ness

2008-07-06T18:27:00.000-07:00

You remember that hourglass in the Wizard of Oz, with Margaret Hamilton in green, cackling behind it?

Well, I'm watching it trickle away madly, to two dates of major importance, at least to me: July 18th, my official debut date, and August 1st, the day of my launch party at Bourbon and Branch, the famed and fabulous San Francisco speakeasy. It'll be continued the next day--all good parties always run over--at M is for Mystery in San Mateo, CA.

And before these two events, I've got Thrillerfest in just a few days ... my first conference in the Big Apple! I'm on a panel on Saturday, July 12 (Real or Imagined: Historical Thrillers), and am one of the ITW Debut Authors this year -- things will be very busy, but it shouldn't be any other way in NYC.

All this is one way of saying that my life is now in overdrive, and I haven't been able to write a proper blog. So here are a couple of links to other places where I've been talking lately:

The Big Thrill Interview: http://www.thrillerwriters.org/2008/06/roman-noir-comes-alive-in-nox-dormienda.html
Gumshoe Review:
http://www.gumshoereview.com/php/Review-id.php?id=1155
Writer's Digest Notable Debut:
http://www.writersdigest.com/article/notable-debuts-august08/

There are more guest blogs on the way, but I do promise to come back as soon as I can and write about a juicy noir.

I've also got an article in the current issue of Mystery Scene. And it's an absolute honor to be there and in the above magazines and e-zines, so I hope you check them out.

And remember:

"Never Surrender, Dorothy!" ;)

Year of the Rat; or, The Best Laid Plans O' Mice and Men ...

2008-06-25T19:12:00.000-07:00

Last week I mentioned that a book debut was a little like temporary insanity ... what I didn't know is that I was actually making a prophecy.

In short, dear readers, insanity in the form of the most improbable series of coincidences since the plot of Murder on the Orient Express struck my household on Sunday.

Now, I don't normally like to write about my life blah-blah-blah stuff. Writing in the Dark is, at its heart, supposed to be about noir with a dash of history and esoterica thrown in for good measure. However, the events of Sunday afternoon were so bizarre as to warrant their own blog post. After all, if not to chronicle life's strangeness -- and truth is, indeed, far weirder than fiction -- what else is a blog for?

Noir will return next week, when I resume my top ten countdown (with the truly strange and wonderful Nora Prentiss! Stay tuned!). For now, I'll share a little noirishness of my own ...

Sunday afternoon I was type-type-typing away, trying to finish a chapter of my work in progress ... when I hear some noises that alarmed me, opened the door of our very small, 1941-built San Francisco home, and found my loved one in a state of consternation. Make that great consternation.

First, a little architectural background. San Francisco houses of the district in which we live were usually built with the living space on an upper floor and a garage below. A substantial (for this city) backyard appends the rear. Our house is virtually unchanged from 1941 -- the garage is still a garage and storage area, not an extra living space. One day, when I'm not trying to launch a new career, we'll add an extra bedroom or library downstairs. For now, however, our living space is very small, very crowded (especially with a 70 pound Springer Spaniel) and (at this point in time) messy.

It's called "debut book syndrome," and it happens to the best of homes.

Anyway, we like things old-fashioned, and I am, after all, currently writing about 1940, so hey--our house is like built-in research.

Anyway, back to Sunday. The consternation was because:

A. Said Springer Spaniel evidently had a medical emergency ... in the nature of a urinary tract demonstration. This was brought to our attention by the fact that the living room futon was beyond salvation.

B. At exactly the same time as the dog was tracking pee in the hallway, the cat was hissing and howling outside the door that leads from the hallway downstairs to the garage. And said cat chased a large mouse or small rat under the door, into our house and into the bedroom.

Well, let's just say I didn't get that chapter finished on Sunday. We spent four or five hours trying to clear out the bedroom so that we could find the rat. In the meantime, we also had to make sure the dog was all right, take him out every fifteen minutes, and haul a very, very wet and heavy futon mattress downstairs.

We combed the bedroom looking for the rat, finding it at one point, but then poof! he seemed to disappear under the bed. Fearing the worst, we examined the box springs ... not there, thank God. But that meant ... no, it couldn't be ... one of the eight foot tall bookcases. Maybe he was behind it.

So we stripped that bookcase, dear readers, removing all the precious books until we ran out of room, boxes and bags. We carefully moved the bookcase, and ... no rat.

By then it was time to take a break, and we were faced with:

A. Having to stay in a motel for at least one night
B. Obviously missing work the next day
C. Dismantling 2 (two) more bookcases ... same size

We were in the Slough of Despond, the Pit of Despair, feeling like noir protagonists (you-know-what on page one).

And that, my friends, is when the clouds cleared, if only for a moment, when the magical sound of the Ice Cream man rolled down our street, signaling "Don't worry!"

There's something magical about the Ice Cream man, and no more so than when your dog has ruined your futon and there's a rat in your bedroom.

After a delicious Fudgsicle and Blue Bunny Chocolate Sundae Bar, we resumed our daunting and gargantuan task. We started to clear the room of everything, examining each bag and box to make sure there wasn't a rat in it before we moved it to another spot in the house.

And, lo! I peered into a bag of books, lifting it off the floor ... and I immediately dropped it again, because Mr. Rat was tucked next to a hardback of What Charles Dickens Ate and Jane Austen Wore or something similar.

I stood over that bag like my cat. Loved One cleared the path between the rat and freedom, flinging open the guilty door which led to the basement and the back yard.

Faster than you can say "Fudgsicle" I rolled up the top of that bag (thankfully, it was double-bagged), tucked it under my arm, and performed a 50 yard Rat Dash to the backyard, where Mr. Rat was able to scamper and hop through the grass and up and over the neighbor's fence, from which (we surmise) he had emerged earlier. The cat chased him again, but couldn't be bothered to go over the fence herself. There are limits to Sunday work for cats, or they contact the union.

The literary Rat thus lived to read someone else's library. I immediately fixed the doorway so that, should the universe ever attempt to repeat this insanity, the rat would be forced to make a U-turn.

We were able to stay home that night, though the next day was spent in trying to achieve equilibrium: finding clothes, locating books, rearranging furniture, buying another couch, and of course, getting antibiotics for the dog.

The moral, dear readers, is that something good actually came out of this rather tortuous adventure. We are now in the middle of a late Spring cleaning, foisted upon us by an uninvited guest, and have a great head start in a home improvement project ... despite the impending book launch.

And think about how amazingly lucky we were ... first, to have seen the rat getting chased, and thus be able to do something about it, and secondly, to have found it in a bag.

So here is my Year of the Rat challenge to you: what seemingly horrible event has resulted in something positive for you? When have your best laid plans gone awry, and yet you later discover that that was a good thing? And what has been your equivalent of "The Ice Cream Man" -- that one, shining moment that seems (in retrospect) to have turned everything around?

Share your stories ... it's the Year of the Rat!

Everything's Coming Up Roz!

2008-06-17T20:06:00.001-07:00

So here it is ... tomorrow will be a month before my book comes out. Book Debut, by the way, is a euphemism for insanity.

I plan to work my madness out publicly in various forums, so if you're the scientific observer type, just stay tuned. ;)

Before I launch into the actual theme of this week's post, let me interrupt for station identification and tell you about some floor wax (remember that stuff?) ... seriously, good news last week for me: Nox Dormienda is in this month's issue of Writer's Digest as a Notable Debut (pg. 23, so my mother tells me). Last week was also my birthday, and this was a wonderful present.

Also, I'll be announcing soon some guest-blogging spots I'll be doing leading up to the July 18th release. Come by and leave me messages so I don't feel like I'm talking to myself. Writers have too many voices in their heads as it is.

So today, let's talk about Rosalind Russell.

Huh?

You heard right. Once in a while, I like to deviate from my normal noirishness to discuss different genres and performers from the classic Hollywood era. I dabble in Westerns, flirt with Dramas, dance with Comedy, and duet with Musicals. And Sunday, if you missed it, Patti Lupone won the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical for her portrayal of Mama Rose in Gypsy.

Now, Gypsy happens to be my favorite American musical. Sure, I love Sweeney Todd, a noir if there ever was one, but Gypsy is on the noir end of things, too, and much easier on the viscera. Besides, Gypsy Rose Lee wrote The G-String Murders (some say it was ghost-written), which in turn was made into a film called Lady of Burlesque starring noir queen Barbara Stanwyck. So there you go -- not even six degrees of Double Indemnity.

So what does Rosalind Russell have to do with this? Well, for me, Roz was the ultimate Mama Rose. If you don't know the plot of Gypsy, it's simple: stage mother Rose Hovik mercilessly pushes child sensation Baby June toward stardom, sacrificing everything and everyone to success on a failing vaudeville circuit. Said Baby June (the real life June Havoc, best role Gentleman's Agreement) up and left Mama, and Mama coaxes her plainer sister Louise into taking it off at a strip club. Voila! Gypsy Rose Lee is born.

Of course, it's the music (Jule Styne and Stephen Sondheim), dancing (Jerome Robbins) and book (Arthur Laurents) that make the musical. Plus, the acting chops of a good actress portraying a truly complex and challenging character. And it so happens that everyone who has played Mama Rose on Broadway has, indeed, won a Tony.

Ethel Merman (the orginator)? Check. Angela Lansbury? Check. Tyne Daly? Check. Bette Midler won an Emmy for her terrific interpretation (made for TV). Bernadette Peters? Check. And now, Patti.

Not to take anything away from Diva Lupone, but from what I've seen of her performance (and most of the other stage productions), I still prefer the woman who couldn't sing but was a hell of an actress: Rosalind Russell (in the film Gypsy, 1961).

(A digression: I saw Patti in a Sondheim produced production of Sweeney Todd in San Francisco (she played Mrs. Lovett), from the second row. The woman has amazing lung power. And George Hearn is not only brilliant, but a humble and wonderful man. Back to the blog.)

My problem with Patti is that she is charismatic but cold. And Rosalind Russell, in the first few seconds of "Everything's Coming Up Roses" can make me get teary-eyed.

So here's to Rosalind, born June 2, 1907, consummate actress and under appreciated talent. She won five Golden Globes (one for Gypsy) was nominated for an Oscar four times (and should have won) and is best-remembered today for embodying Auntie Mame, both in the film and on Broadway. But make no mistake: this lady played everything.

Hildy Johhson, His Girl Friday (1940), going toe-to-toe with Cary Grant in probably the best comedy ever made. The unglamorous nag Sylvia Fowler in the classic The Women (1939). Mourning Becomes Electra. Night Must Fall. Sister Kenny. Picnic. The Trouble with Angels. And, in one of her last roles, the sleuth Mrs. Pollifax. And countless other films, big and little, all of which were enlivened by her intelligence, her talent and her presence.

So if you get a chance, check out what a great actress can do without a great voice. You'll be left applauding Rose--and Ros--at the end of the film.

As Auntie Mame proclaimed, "Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!" Rosalind Russell, in her charity work, her humanity, her legacy and her talent ... fed us all.

Happy Birthday, Ros.

Beauty of the BEAst, Part II

2008-06-05T19:10:00.000-07:00

So after the events of Friday -- and those terrific Cosmos (in honor of the Sex and the City premiere) at the Edison -- I slept like a baby, and woke up on Saturday ready for more BEA and my signing.

And despite Culver Studios across the street, I didn't murmur "Rosebud."

We drove down Venice Boulevard -- I resolutely refuse to travel on gargantuan freeways if I can help it ... past the incredible Helms Bakery building, a landmark of LA Deco from 1931, complete with an amazingly beautiful roof-top neon sign ... past the Angelus-Rosedale Cemetery, with its time-worn, individual monuments. Among the notables interred here: Dooley Wilson, Anna May Wong, Hattie McDaniel, Jessie Benton Fremont, horror director Todd Browning, and Everett Sloane, who portrayed Mr. Bernstein in Citizen Kane.

"Rosebud," indeed. Yet another reason to slow down and actually experience the history of a city, especially one as richly fabled as Los Angeles.

We arrived at BEA, and I put a little time in behind the MWA booth, giving away copies of our short story anthology edited by Michael Connelly, The Blue Religion. Again, the booth was buzzing, due to Margery's brilliant set-up of the booth environment and a constant stream of great authors like Harry Hunsicker and Patricia Smiley. I happily reunited with friend and LCC panel mate Ken Kuhlken (The Vagabond Virgins), and before I knew it, it was time to go see James Rollins (The Judas Strain), who was signing at the autograph area.

James bestowed me with a fantastic blurb for Nox Dormienda-- in fact, he was my first blurb, ever, and let me tell you -- it's a frightening thing to ask authors whom you revere to read your book, just on the possibility that they may like it. It's a process that can be painful and terrifying.

For the record, I never met nor previously corresponded with any of the generous and wonderful authors who blurbed Nox Dormienda, so this was my first chance to thank Jim in person.

By the time I reached the autograph area, they'd already shut off the line, because Jim was to sign for half an hour only. Fortunately, the crowd moved fast enough to add a few more people. I was able to thank him and give him a hug (though not my mother's apple pie, unfortunately -- when she read the blurb, she wanted to bake him one). And I got a signed copy of The Last Oracle, which I can't wait to read! (Jim also wrote the novelization of Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull!)

Next, we trekked over to the other hall, wandered around collecting more books and book bags, and visited good friend and author Laura Caldwell (The Good Liar), who was signing in the plush and comfortable Harlequin/Mira booth.

After chatting, I found myself surrounded by two half-naked -- make that more like 85% naked -- angels, characters from a video game/movie/book promo. This sort of thing is what happens at BEA, so I just went with it. After seizing the photo op, I handed the angels my requested business cards ... one went into a bejeweled bra, the other into a jockstrap. These, I believe, are the most exotic places any of my business cards have been ... so far!

Back to the MWA booth, passing a sign for Kirk Cameron (in one booth) and Alan Thicke (in another) and a long, long line at St. Martin's, where Alec Baldwin was sitting, signing marketing materials. Seriously -- no book, but he seemed to be taking time to really talk to people. Even from a distance, he was intense.

Then I had the good fortune to run into friend and Noir Czar Eddie Muller, which is always a special treat, because he's one of the busiest people I know.

When I got back "home" to the West Hall, Margery's husband Steve and Harry were discussing the prospect of getting Hugh Hefner's book. Steve managed to get a picture with the Hefmeister, despite the size and rabid temperament of Mr. Playboy's bodyguards. Pal Bill Cameron (Chasing Smoke) came by to check in with me, and soon it was time for my signing.

I was thrilled ... people actually wanted my book! The brilliant and delightful Penny Warner was sitting next to me, giving away copies of The Nancy Drew Handbook (an indispensable tome if ever there was one!), and we were both busy until we ran out. I only had thirty ARCS with me, so I distributed them very quickly, and was utterly delighted to meet some readers, bookstore owners and librarians.

In the meantime, I had realized that a tall, dark man had taken Ken's seat to my right. His back was to me, but then I realized that Andrew Peterson -- who the day before had signed and distributed over a hundred copies of his first thriller, First to Kill at the Dorchester booth -- was mouthing the words, "Lee Child." And so I turned, and realized that the tall, dark man was also handsome, urbane and witty, and of course was, indeed, best-selling author Lee Child (Nothing to Lose).

Lee is the ITW sponsor of the Debut Author Program, and will be introducing all of this year's debs (myself included) at the Debut Author Breakfast at Thrillerfest next month. So we chatted, and I had the opportunity of thanking him for his incredible support. As I told Lee, joining the program was the single most valuable thing I did as a first-time author ... it's been an amazing education, a wonderful network, and a treasure-trove of friendships.

Then Elizabeth Evans and Amy Burkhardt, two of the stellar agents with my stellar agency, Reece Halsey North, came by. Kimberley Cameron, my wonderful, wonderful agent, was at the Paris branch, so Elizabeth and Amy were down at BEA. I am so thankful to be represented by Reece Halsey North ... it really is "writer's heaven." :)

Eddie came by, and so did Denise Hamilton and Cara Black, whom I only had a chance to hug goodbye, because it was time for Saturday's main event: William Shatner.

We discovered he was scheduled the day before ... and fortunately, my significant other waited in line -- actually started the line -- at the St. Martin's booth, while I was signing. BEA Tip #274: bring family members with you.

Why was meeting Shatner so important to me? Am I a closet Trekkie? Do I own more than one Star Trek toy? OK, I'm a semi-trekkie, but only for the original show. And that wasn't the reason why William Shatner was on my must see list. I had to skip Leonard Nimoy because of the timing, and as much as I adore Nimoy, Shatner would always be my first choice. Why?

Public figures can become icons for a variety of reasons. But only a few become true symbols. I realized this after Princess Diana was killed. Her death felt like losing a family member, and I struggled to make sense of this to myself. I came to the conclusion that, to me and millions of women my age, just a bit younger than Diana, she was a symbol, a sort of ideal self, the ultimate woman of my generation.

We were mourning ourselves, as much as Diana.

With Shatner, I was facing the ultimate paternal figure. The strong, always positive, uber-leader James Tiberius Kirk. I greatly admire Shatner's work with animals, as well as his personal tenacity and humor and strength in adversity. In fact, those characteristics are what enables him to so easily reach that symbolic status. He's been kicked, he's been ridiculed, he's been adored and worshiped. Still, he perseveres, under his own terms. To paraphrase one of the quotes on his new autobiography, Up Till Now:"It's Bill Shatner's world. He just lets us live in it."

So when I say it was like meeting God, maybe you'll get what I mean.

The St. Martin's people passed out the books early, and gave away free audio books, too. Publishing professionals came by, murmuring about how they've always wanted to meet Shatner, can I get in, can so-and-so introduce me. And we stood and waited, while the line grew.

At least I had a chance to chat with Ivory Madison, CEO and Founder of the amazing writer's site Red Room, while we were waiting. Ivory has authored the definitive relaunch of DC's The Huntress, is supremely multi-talented and an absolutely wonderful person. Red Room is a joy to be a part of, a true community. And of course, she immediately understood why I was standing in line!

My feet were killing me, but before I quite realized it, there he was. A literal hush fell over the crowd, and all you could hear were the clicks and whirs of cell phones taking snapshots of Captain Kirk. Steve was standing in front of me, and shook Shatner's hand. We backed up, with me in front.

I'd decided that I had to give him something. I feel like he's given me a great deal. Courage. Tenacity. Entertainment. Positivism. Determination. Strength. So the only thing that seemed appropriate was to give him a copy of my book ... after all, that's why I was at BEA.

Shatner set the rules for the signing, since the St. Martin's people weren't exactly on top of things. One of the booth handlers brought over someone from the booth across the way, a rock musician I hadn't heard of, to have Shatner sign a book for him. You could feel the frenzy of the crowd behind us, eerily still and quiet.

The man himself exudes charisma and an ultimate alpha quality. Truly. It's quite intimidating, and almost frightening. Almost Old Testament, if you know what I mean.

Shatner asked me how long we'd been waiting. He was jovial and chatty, but wanted to have the signing proceed like a well-oiled machine ... like the Enterprise.

So then it was me. I could feel the weight of the 250+ crowd behind me, the swarm of people around us, not waiting in line, but trying to get pictures. When he saw I had two books in my hand, a St. Martin's marketing rep tried to tell me that Shatner was only signing copies of the autobiography, which I knew. I replied that what I was holding was my first book, a gift for Mr. Shatner. In all honesty, I don't remember what else I said. It was hard to get words out, rather like the first time I was in Europe and staring at St. Peter's Square.

Shatner said "Put it there," interrupting any objections from the booth man. So I put my book where he said to put it -- next to him, on his left -- and I thanked him, and he said, quite kindly, "You're welcome," and I tried to say something about how I felt and hoped I didn't sound like an idiot. I couldn't say much. I remember he asked my name, and at the end, when I left, he turned toward me and gave me that particular Shatner wink -- you've seen it a million times, he crinkles one side of his face.

I waited for my group, and none of us were exactly sure what had just happened. Our feet were killing us, we were hungry -- it was after 3:30, and we hadn't eaten lunch. So we walked back to the West Hall, managed to find a table in one of the dining areas, and ate and talked until we felt something resembling normalcy.

Back to the MWA table, to collect my books, say so long. By this time, I was wobbly. Really, really tired, not used to the heat in LA, not used to signing books, not used to meeting symbols. So I had to unfortunately miss out on a helicopter tour of LA I was going to take with Julie Compton (Tell No Lies), another friend from the ITW debut authors, courtesy of pilot and writer Andrew Peterson. But alas -- the spirit was willing, the post Shatner-signing flesh was weak.

After a small dinner at the excellent Italian bistro Novecento in Culver City, I watched a Val Lewton documentary on TCM ... and of course the films it discussed had mostly been made in the studio across the street.

The next day, we thought about going back. But you really can't, not after a Saturday like that. So we didn't rush, enjoyed a Sunday morning in Culver City and flew home to San Francisco later in the afternoon.

Did I really give a copy of Nox Dormienda to William Shatner? Yeah. I guess I did!

My first BEA ... and one to remember.

Beauty of the BEAst, Part I

2008-06-03T18:37:00.000-07:00

I'm back from BEA (BookExpo America), and -- while not yet fully recovered -- am at least ready to post about it.

I'm not sure that it's something from which one can recover. An event that large (even though the numbers were low this year), that chaotic, that carnival-like in its showmanship and chutzpah -- yet demonstrating a strange serendipity -- is actually quite an individualized experience. My BEA will be different from all other BEAs, if only because of the sheer number of choices available. Nimoy or Shatner was probably the toughest, but that was day two ... tomorrow's post.

So where to begin? Culver City, I suppose. I stayed at the Culver Hotel, once owned by John Wayne, who, legend has it, won it in a poker game from Charlie Chaplin. This pairing strikes me as highly unlikely ... rather like Michael Moore playing poker with Bill O'Reilly, but you know what they say -- that's Hollywood, or rather Culver City, the "Heart of Studio Land."

Three studios once populated the landscape, and Sony is still located in Culver. More significantly for me, the Hotel is immediately across the street from the old Ince/Selznick/RKO/Desilu studios, where films like Gone With the Wind, The Wizard of Oz, Rebecca, and Citizen Kane were filmed. They are now the Culver Studios, and are still busy.

If you've ever seen a Selznick movie, you'll remember the opening shot of a colonial mansion, sometimes confused with Tara, that prefaced all of his productions. I woke up to that mansion every day, looking down and to the west from my sixth floor room. That's a magic kind of film history, and the Culver Hotel is a gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful and wondrous place to stay, with an exceptional staff of welcoming and helpful people.

Plus, I really loved the old elevator ... an original from 1924, when the hotel opened.

Across the street is a newly-built Pacific Theater complex, designed to look Art Deco, and done so well that it fooled me from a distance. So at least somewhere there are architects and developers with souls, who remember what beautiful building design looks like.

Friday dawned early and orange in LA, and fellow debut author Andrew Peterson and I entered the huge complex together, first paying our respects outside to the enormous sign for James Patterson. Mr. Patterson was helping bring in the crowds, and I'm looking forward to seeing him in a slightly more cozy environment at Thrillerfest next month.

The Expo feels like a world's fair, an amusement park, a circus, a conference and a business meeting. And depending on what you were there for, it could be all of the above.

People in elephant costumes, people in pirate costumes, people in practically no costume or clothes at all. People with signs, people with free cookies, people with free lip gloss, all wanting your attention, all wanting to call your attention to something, usually a book.

And then there were the free books. Books in every subject, hardbacks, paperbacks, magazines. People passing them out, people piling them on garbage cans because they couldn't stuff them into one of the gazillion free book bags that were handed out along with the -- yes, I said it -- FREE BOOKS.

It was insanity. A woman walked around in zealot robes, carrying a sign that read "The Rapture is Coming ... and it's only 12.99." The flip side said, "It is Written ... but you can also get the audio rights."

That's BEA, Los Angeles-style.

I checked in at the MWA (Mystery Writers of America) booth, where I was volunteering and where I'd be signing on Saturday. The MWA relies on an organizational goddess based in New York named Margery Flax ... Margery had planned everything to the proverbial t and the booth was hopping with excitement. Brad Meltzer (a wonderful writer and guy) was dishing out books like hotcakes, and the joint was jumping!

I hung around for a bit, greeting colleagues, and then wandered off to meet Dionne Warwick, who was signing free copies of her new children's book Say a Little Prayer (complete with bonus CD). I grew up with Dionne, and have always appreciated the fact that she made San Jose a glamorous place when I lived there in elementary school.

Next was Diahann Carroll. OK, by now I was in pure fan mode ... I grew up with Julia, and absolutely adore this woman. She is as sweet, generous and open as she is gorgeous, and signed ARCS of her forthcoming autobiography, The Legs are the Last to Go. We even got a chance to chat about new author syndrome, and she wished me a heartfelt good luck on my book. Wow!

I checked back with MWA to remind myself that I was still an industry professional, and ran into the wonderful David Morrell (founder of ITW (International Thriller Writers), author of First Blood and countless other best-sellers) and his talented, terrific daughter Sarie. As an ITW member (and participant in the ITW Debut Authors Program), I had to thank David for the amazing friendships, opportunities, and education I've received. Soon, a group of us were talking in the giant lobby, and I had a chance to meet uber-talented writer Denise Hamilton (Los Angeles Noir) and walk back to MWA with her.

By this time I was getting kind of woozy, and it was still morning. I headed back to the autograph area [and I need to interrupt myself to explain that authors signed one of two ways: in a specific autograph area, where lines were roped off, and in exhibitor booths, where people could could a little closer].

Now, it so happens that my mother is from Harvey, Illinois. And she grew up in a working-class neighborhood with a little boy named Tommy Dreesen, who grew up to become the wonderful, talented and very funny comedian (and great golfer!) Tom Dreesen. Tom is one of the last links to the Rat Pack, having worked as Sinatra's opening act for the last fourteen years of The Voice's life. Before that, Tom worked for Sammy Davis, Jr. And before that, he and Tim Reid (Venus Fly Trap on WKRP in Cincinnati and acclaimed director) had toured as Americans first (and only) biracial comedy team.

Tom, Tim and Ron Rapoport (the Chicago Sports columnist) have co-authored a book about this experience, called Tim and Tom: An American Comedy in Black and White. The book debuts from the University of Chicago press in September, and is as much a thoughtful, poignant look at racism in America as it is autobiographical reminiscence.

Naturally, when my mom found out Tom was going to be at BEA, she asked me to go see him (they've stayed in touch periodically). So when I said, "I'm Patsy Geniusz' daughter!" Tom actually knew who I was, told Tim and Ron that he used to borrow Mom's papers occasionally, and was just an absolute sweetheart -- he's such a kind, generous man. I gave him a copy of my book, and he signed mine, "For Kelli, who is as beautiful as her mom." Something I'll treasure forever!!

By now, my head was spinning, so we tried to scare up some food, but the food court lines were gigantic. Fortunately, we met up with pal and amazing thriller writer Robert Gregory Browne (Kiss Her Goodbye), who helped us fight for chairs (chairs were in shorter supply than tables, and harder to come by than parking at a Toys R Us during Christmas). We managed to score some low-fat muffins and frappucino for our efforts, and were joined by another BFF, Bill Cameron (Lost Dog and the forthcoming Chasing Smoke). These are two of my favorite guys on the planet, and their company was much more refreshing than the Starbucks food.

We all wandered into the main exhibit area, where we split up, Rob and Bill to another publisher area, I to wait in line for Billie Jean King. Yeah, the lady I watched demolish Bobby Riggs in straight sets, who gave courage to every little girl I knew, was there signing copies of her ARC, Pressure is a Privilege. I got a chance to thank her and tell her she's a real Wonder Woman. Plus, she's got a great laugh!

After this, we squeezed into the end of the line for Barbara Walters who was a late addition, and signing free copies of her best-seller Audition. Got a chance to thank Barbara for her inspiration, too. She's quite beautiful in person, with amazing skin and bone structure, and a very gracious benevolence. Can't believe she's 78!

Once outside, I thought I heard a voice call my name, figured it was the angels, and it turned out I was right ... it was Cara Black, the supremely talented author of the Aime Leduc series, good friend, wonderful, wonderful person and fellow San Francisco resident. We caught up on some of the BEA craziness.

After this, I headed back to the hotel and collapsed, finally locating real food at the Culver, and then headed back to downtown LA and into the trendy and fun bar, The Edison. The place looks like a Buffy set ... I half-expected Angel to walk down the stairs. This was an MWA hosted bar, and I had a blast drinking Cosmos and chatting with Margery and husband Steve, friend and Lambda nominee Neil Plakcy (Mahu Surfer) and another great friend, Laura Caldwell (The Good Liar).

Back to the hotel, through the strange, apocalyptic streets of downtown Los Angeles. Back to the Culver, to the Selznick mansion, to the kindly and generous ghosts of the Culver Hotel.

Thus endeth Day I. Childhood icons, my mom's childhood chum. What a day! More tomorrow.

A Killer Double Feature

2008-05-27T12:19:00.001-07:00

This weekend, I was faced with preparing for BookExpo America, for which I am traveling to Los Angeles this week (I'll be signing and giving away advanced reading copies of my book at the Mystery Writers of America booth). But I also had some fun on Saturday: I traveled to the East Bay, to see a double feature of The Killers (one of the all-time great noirs) and Eddie Muller's neo-noir short classic, The Grand Inquisitor.

To make the package even more irresistible, the movies were screened at a fantastic theater: the Cerrito, a restored 1937 deco masterpiece in downtown El Cerrito. Saved from the greedy, amoral hands of developers by the Friends of the Cerrito Theater, a grass-roots non-profit, and later purchased by the city itself, the Cerrito is a Speakeasy Theater ... and as anyone who knows me can attest, I can't resist anything calling itself a speakeasy.

What it means in this context is that film-goers have the option of lounging in comfortable couches and armchairs, snuggling and eating delicious pizza or salad or nachos with a big bowl of buttered popcorn. You can even get a bottle or glass of wine or beer, and make it date night--in fact, one of the best packages is "The Cheap Date," a $35 deal which includes two admissions, a medium pizza with three toppings (home-tossed and delicious!) a big bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine or two large beers. As they say in Kansas (or should, anyway) -- that ain't hay.

The Cerrito is a model of what can be done to make historic theaters viable business venues, whether for time-worn classics or today's (mostly forgettable) fare. Of course, it depends on the spirit of the community, and I take my hat off to the can-do citizens of El Cerrito.

Now, I reviewed The Grand Inquisitor back in January, the day after its debut at Noir City. And as great as it was on first showing, the film, like fine wine, only improves with another sip.

Eddie Muller is the most modest genius I know. And I don't use the word lightly. The man has just finished a run with the Thrillpeddlers' production of a lost Noel Coward play (also reviewed in Writing in the Dark), writes brilliant fiction (The Distance, Shadow Boxer), classic non-fiction (Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir) and knows more about film noir than anyone, with the possible exception of Bertrand Tavernier, though I'd still bet on Eddie for the Jeopardy championship.

In fact, Eddie has just returned from a trip to Paris, where he was feted by the French and where he screened The Grand Inquisitor (the audience included Tavernier). The Distance was recently published in France as Mister Boxe, and Lire magazine called it the Thriller of the Year. His film was also shown three times as part of the prestigious San Francisco International Film Festival. So yeah -- I don't speak lightly. Eddie is not just the Czar of Noir (founder and President of the Film Noir Foundation) ... he's its Leonardo da Vinci.

If you get a chance to see The Grand Inquisitor, don't miss it. Just to take one element of the twenty-minute film (other than the outstanding acting by screen goddess Marsha Hunt and newcomer Leah Dashe): the mise-en-scene and art direction (please forgive the lack of accents) is amazing. On my first viewing, I was so awestruck by Marsha's incredible performance (and Eddie's pacing and framing), that I hadn't realized subtle clues adding to the film's mystery and claustrophobic atmosphere ... notice the pill bottles here and there in the opening shot's of Lulu's bedroom. Notice the dense, smoke-filled, shut-in feeling of the house. Notice the stacks of newspapers, unread, that fill the space behind Marsha as she sits in her chair.

Small things can add up to greatness, and The Grand Inquisitor is one great movie. To make matters even more chilling, Eddie's short story (published in the sublime anthology A Hell of a Woman, edited by Megan Abbott) upon which the film is based, is, in turn, based on some actual non-fiction discoveries he made while prowling through bookstores. Names have been changed to protect the possibly guilty.

What would you do if you think you may have found the Zodiac killer's notebooks? See The Grand Inquisitor for a possible answer.

The second half of the evening was filled with magnificent views of a young Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner in The Killers (1946), beautifully directed by Robert Siodmak. The flash back structure of this film makes it a detective story within a noir tale of greed and lust and amour fou.

Siodmak's camera lingers lovingly on the drop-dead beauty of his stars (and neither ever looked better) ... in a memorable shot from the first meeting of Lancaster (The Swede) and Gardner (Kitty) , a burning lamp filament juts phallically between them, glowing violently ... and it is the raw, animal charisma of these two that drives the film forward. It's almost like watching a nature show.

The casting of pudgy, middle-aged Albert Dekker (Big Jim) as Ava's other love interest makes their relationship feel physically and morally wrong, as if it's a crime against biology. Other careful casting enriches the minor roles:William Conrad and noir favorite Charles McGraw play the eponymous hired hitmen, Jack Lambert enlivens Dum-Dum, Vince Barnett portrays Charleston, the star-gazing thief, and Queenie Smith gives a touching, memorable turn as the maid. Sam Levene, so memorable in Brute Force, another Lancaster noir classic, and as the victim in Crossfire, makes a likable, believable cop. Virginia Christine, whom you may remember as Maxwell House's Mrs. Olsen, is the good girl. Even Edmund O'Brien, who often overacts, delivers the goods as the insurance investigator.

This is a film to be savored--like 70-year old Scotch. If you get a chance to see it on the big screen, do ... and Eddie reported the good news that the film has been restored by the studio, which bodes well for a future release.

Walking out of the theater--and the movies played to a full house--I overheard a group of people talk excitedly about how wonderful The Killers was.

So move over, Indiana. We love you, too, but when cinema can compel new generations of movie-goers to laugh, cry, bite their fingernails or applaud after sixty years, that's a real box-office winner.

Next: I'll be at BEA next weekend, and will attempt to blog if I don't get lost in all the hullabaloo!

Who Shot Liberty Valance?

2008-05-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

Some people think of westerns as Clayton Moore in a skyblue jump suit, and Jay Silverheels suffering through endless "kemo sabe" lines.

But that's nonsense. Sure, there were a lot of "oaters" (as they were called), produced by low-budget hacks to cash in on the post WWII cowboy craze. But the genre--as plentiful on the new medium of television as cigarette commercials and Arthur Godfrey--also deepened and matured in the late '40s and '50s, following a course similar--and complementary to--the traditional "film noir cycle" you might hear a lot of critics talk about.

The country may have been in denial about the social, cultural and political upheavals caused by WWII and the aftermath of the Cold War (how else does one explain Pat Boone?) ... but noir, early on, tackled adult subjects, and even when the most courageous, outspoken (and in many cases, the most talented) directors were blacklisted, gleanings of self-exploration are evident in many genre films of the period--particularly westerns, like those directed by Anthony Mann (also a fine noir filmmaker) and starring Jimmy Stewart.

So I'm breaking away from the traditional urban setting for a week to talk about one western in particular--one of the best ever made, and one that boasts some noir characteristics (and actors).

Late in his career, John Ford--who by all accounts was not a kemo sabe to work with, but one of the most influential and brilliant directors of all time--revisited his favorite genre and his favorite actor, and filmed The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962).

The film is actually a mystery--a story told in flashback, explaining why an aged, prominent politician and Senator--played by Jimmy Stewart--and his wife (Vera Miles, most famous for Psycho), return to Shinbone, a small town in the southwest, for the funeral of a man whom no one remembers except for his companion, friend and hired hand, Pompey (the always moving Woody Strode) ... and who will be buried as a pauper by the county.

The relationship of the elderly Ransom Stoddard (Stewart) and his wife Hallie seems uncomfortable ... and almost immediately, after a buggy ride out to a burned out house surrounded by cactus roses, we're led to believe that this couple had been, once a upon a time, a triangle: there had been another man, the dead man, Tom Doniphon.

Newspaper men coax the story--actually, demand the story--from Stewart, who also ensures that the miserly undertaker buries Tom with his boots and spurs.

The flashback begins with the fresh-from-law school Ransom (makeup helps the 53 year old Stewart and so does the black and white photography) getting hijacked on the stage coach by a sadistic psychopath named Liberty Valance (played brilliantly by Lee Marvin, and reminiscent of his turn in The Big Heat). (Trivia buffs will note that Lee Van Cleef, later to come to prominence as "Angel Eyes" in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, portrays one of Valance's two sidekicks.)

Rance (and his law books) are torn to shreds by Valance, and he's left to die. The first time we see Tom Doniphon (John Wayne, in one of his best roles), he's carting the wounded Rance to Shinbone and the arms of the pretty but illiterate girl who works in the only hash house in town. Cue the triangle.

The main theme revolves around the educated representative of the future and civilization (Rance), who refuses to carry a gun, and tries to fight for justice with law, versus the strong man who represents the past and keeps himself to himself (Tom), a man of action, but who--until now--has not done anything to halt Valance's crimes, even though he is the only person in the territory who is capable of it. And then there's Hallie, torn between what she knows and what she thinks she wants.

But the relationship is really not about these three people, nor is the movie. The film, like all great cinema, can be read on many levels. Ultimately, it's about sacrifice, and entrapment and force and civilization and what role force has in creating--and destroying civilization. And happiness. It's about that, too.

It's a mystery, it's a political commentary, it's philosophy wrapped up in a cowboy suit. Along with The Searchers, it's the best film Wayne made, and one of the best Ford (4 time Best Director Oscar winner) ever made. And keep in mind he directed films like The Grapes of Wrath, The Informer, How Green Was My Valley and The Quiet Man).

Co-starring some of the best character actors in the business--Andy Devine, Woody Strode, John Qualen, Jeanette Nolan (she's Gloria Graham's "sister under the mink" in The Big Heat), John Carradine--in addition to a really hammy Edmund O'Brien doing a Thomas Mitchell impression (see Stagecoach, also a Ford film and the one that catapulted John Wayne to fame, for how O'Brien's character should have registered), The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance demonstrates the same dark heart, irony and ambivalence--and questioning probe of society and its values--as many noirs. In a strange way, it reminds me of the Ursula LeGuin short story, "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas."

As the newspaper man responds, when finding the answer to the title question: "No, sir. This is the West, sir. When legend becomes fact, print the legend."

Who shot Liberty Valance? The answer is: maybe we all did.

No Sudden Fear of Joan

2008-05-12T19:33:00.000-07:00

My top ten noir countdown list changes with my mood, but last time I made it, Sudden Fear (1952) held the #9 spot like Joan Crawford clutching at Norma Shearer's off-screen husband in The Women (1939) ... which is not a noir, exactly, but kind of.

To me, Joan Crawford is one of the most underrated actresses from the classic era. This wasn't the case until Christina's nasty little book (and while I know Joan (aka Billie Cassin, aka Lucille LaSeur) was an abusive parent, that still doesn't excuse Christina from being an abusive--and profiteering--child). Unfortunately, people now relegate her to the caricature bin, thanks to Mommie Dearest and Faye Dunaway and wire-hangers and 80s excess.

This is patently unfair to Crawford's legacy as an actress. One of the most naturally gifted performers in Hollywood, she transcended the silent era, transitioning from a minor flapper in "youth" films of the twenties to plucky working girls in early talkies like the MGM classic Grand Hotel (1932) --where she not only held her own against stagy actors like two out of the three Barrymores (John and Lionel, for the record) -- but stole the spotlight.

Crawford, like the saucy Jean Harlow and the pert Ginger Rogers, epitomized the working class woman. Unlike Jean and Ginger, though, she often tapped into a dark side, portraying victims and sometimes villains (as in The Women ... in which, I would argue, she again dominated. By the end of the movie, she makes the gold-digging Crystal seem sympathetic, particularly with her delivery of the exit line: "There's a word for you ladies, but they don't use it in polite society ... outside of a kennel.")

By the '40s, Crawford had been written off by the studio with "more stars than there were in heaven" and found her true calling at the studio more akin to the real Lucille LaSeur--down and dirty Warner Brothers. Joan's reemergence as a genuine noir icon was prefigured by fare such as 1941's A Woman's Face, in which she plays a criminal and victim of disfigurement, transformed externally--but perhaps not internally--by plastic surgery. If you don't think Crawford was a great actress, seek out this film and see what she can do with just her voice and posture.

Joan was able to laugh in Louis B. Mayer's face when she won the Oscar for Warner's adaptation of Cain's Mildred Pierce in 1945. For the rest of the '40s and '50s she was able to rely on a steady stream of noir, some great, some not so great, but all worth seeing because of Crawford's abilities.

My favorite among her spate of noir films is Sudden Fear. Co-starring Jack Palance and the delectable and haunting Gloria Grahame--as well as Joan's co-star from Mildred Pierce, Bruce Bennett, and a young Mike Conners (billed as "Touch" Conners)--the movie is suspenseful and extraordinary.

Crawford plays another working woman, this time a well-to-do playwright, Myra Hudson. Myra lives in San Francisco, but while auditioning actors for a production in New York, she rejects Lester Blaine (Palance) because, well, he looks like Palance.

On her way back home on the train, Myra encounters Blaine again, and his virile personality and dominating, take-charge attitude soon convince her that she'd made a mistake ... professionally and personally. Myra marries the younger man, and soon discovers that Lester is not all that he seems.

Without giving anything away, check out the scene where Joan is listening to a record. Watch her performance, note the transitions, the hesitancy, the realization her character comes to. That's acting.

Sudden Fear is particularly noteworthy for the ending, which for 1952, is remarkably feminist. I almost expected to see Jill Clayburgh pop out of a San Francisco alleyway.

Crawford is credited as an uncredited executive producer for this film, which was released by RKO. It's available on DVD, so add it to your Netflix queue.

Joan Crawford was much more than the sum of Mommie Dearest and the schlock horror films she cranked out in the late '60s ... she was a consummate film actress, and a complete professional, giving every film--no matter how dreadful--her very best. Some were able to measure up to her ... and #9 on my top ten list, Sudden Fear, is one of them.

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No history this week (except film history) ... but if you've got any questions or interest in ancient historical tidbits and trivia, leave a comment or question and I'll fit it in next week. My default topic is usually noir ... the stuff that dreams are made of. :)