Marvin H. Albert had great pseudonyms. Can you think of a better one than "Nick Quarry" for a writer of hardboiled p.i. novels in the Spillane vein? Okay, maybe you can, but "Nick Quarry" sure is a good one. (Later on, Albert used this for a couple of "In the Tradition of the Godfather" novels for Gold Medal, too.)
The p.i. in this case is Jake Barrow, and a killer is after the daughter of his old war buddy. The killer has just shot Jake's girlfriend in the stomach. He's also shot Jake's buddy, and he's going to kill more before he's done. Jake isn't happy, and he doles out a lot of punishment. He takes a lot, too.
One thing you can count on in nearly every Albert novel, no matter the pseudonym, is an extended chase scene, always well done, always detailed. In this one novel, Barrow is chased into the drain tunnels under New York City. After he gets in, no one's pursuing him, but he still has to find a way out. It takes him fourteen pages to do it. There's another chase at the end of the book, but this one takes place in quite a different setting: Santa Fe. Albert must have enjoyed doing these scenes, and they're always entertaining.
There's a lot of violence in this book. It's the kind of book that blurb writers used to describe by saying, "Out-Spillanes Spillane!" I'm sure you get the idea. There's never a dull moment, and one of the interesting things about it is the basis of the plot. It's very up to date and might have come from last week's headlines. Check it out.
Update: I thought I'd bring Lee Goldberg's comment up here in case some of you don't read the comments. Here it is: Brash Books is bringing back all of the Albert crime novels and thrillers ... Except for Tony Rome. The rights to the Tony Rome novels are held by 20th Century Fox, which is developing a new TV series version. You can find out more about Brash at www.brash-books.com and we've got a Facebook page up with some of our new book covers.
Update: The covers are also on Pinterest. Click here to see them.
A few days ago I got an e-mail from someone who used to attend our writing workshops at Alvin Community College. She'd been going through some old magazines and had run across a copy of Mystery Scene Volume 1, Number 2, postmarked December, 1985. She said she'd opened it up and seen my article on selling the first book in the Sheriff Dan Rhodes series and wondered if I'd like to have the magazine. You're durn tootin' I would.
I hadn't seen the magazine in years nearly 30 years. My copy is in deep storage somewhere in the depths of the Cushing Library at Texas A&M University if they haven't given it away. So naturally I jumped at the chance to see it again. As soon as it dropped through the mail slot here at Casa de Crider, I tore open the envelope and started turning the pages. Holy galloping nostalgia, Batman! It was overwhelming.
For one thing, there's Ellen Nehr's "Murder Ad Lib" column, which includes an interview with Barbara Michaels and Ellen's reviews. Ellen was a fan right down to the soles of her white tennis shoes and a unique personality. I feel a little sorry for the generations of mystery readers and fans who've come along since her passing and never known her (and her eccentric spelling, sadly absent in the column, thanks to the editors). She also has a letter in the issue, informing executive editor Ed Gorman that quiche was served at the PWA luncheon at the Bouchercon (which was in San Francisco that year). "Bill Pronzini was so embarrassed that he grabbed his passport and left for two weeks in England. Can you blame him?"
William Campball Gault has a report on the Bouchercon, and he writes about running into pulpster and western writer Tommy Thompson in the lobby of the Sir Francis Drake Hotel. Thompson had no idea that there was a convention in the hotel. He was there with his wife to celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary. So, Gault says, he and Thompson "sat in the lobby and dreamed back, boats against the current. . . . Someone has said recently that nostalgia ain't what it used to be; it is to old pulp writers." To me, too, and I'm sorry I wasn't in on that conversation. I was at the convention, and I did get to spend a good bit of time with Gault. A great guy, and I'd have loved to meet Thompson.
There's a wonderful interview with Knox Burger conducted by Jon White (it first appeared in Paperback Forum, a publication that I also gave to Texas A&M). Burger reminisces about his days as an editor at Gold Medal and Dell. Great stuff, just great. "There was another guy from that time, a wonderful guy, a madman, but very entertaining and a good writer, named William Campbell Gault. He was a fiesty little guy." Hmmm. Where have I heard that name before?
Ed Gorman's article on Dean Koontz calls Koontz "America's most successful least-known-writer." Geez, could 1985 have been that long ago? It's hard even to imagine a time when Koontz could've been called a "least-known-writer."
Max Allan Collins has a movie column, which shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who's read his blog. He was already and established writer, as the ad in the issue indicates. Barry Gifford writes about discovering Jim Thompson. And there's a lot more. Reading this issue was like opening a time capsule, and I wallowed in nostagia for . . . well, I guess I still am. Wow. Where are the snows of yesteryear?
A long, long time ago, I can still remember . . . . Well, actually I can't remember the first time I read Ross Macdonald. I can just remember how impressed I was by the book I'd picked up and how it made me want to read everything else by the author. And eventually I did read everything else, or just about everything. I was so entranced by his writing and that of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler that I figured I might even be able to talk someone into letting me write a doctoral dissertation on their books. And I did. I owe those three guys a lot.
The Drowning Pool (1950) is the second novel to feature private-eye Lew Archer. I have several copies of it, but when I saw one for a buck the other day, I couldn't resist picking it up. And then I figured it might be fun to read it again. It was.
Ross Macdonald was still feeling his way with this one, so the style isn't what it would be come, but The Drowning Pool has the themes that would occupy him for the rest of his career: dysfunctional families, the sins of the fathers setting their children's teeth on edge, the changing face of California (Ross Mac saw the same sorts of things happening there that John D. Mac saw happening in Florida), the conflict of the generations, and the widening gap between the rich and poor.
Lew Archer's client is a woman who's received a blackmail letter. She doesn't want to tell Archer anything about herself or her family, but he takes the job. Working pretty much in the dark, he begins to turn up plenty of secrets that everybody would like to keep covered, secrets that lead to murder. Typically, even when Archer is supposed to be off the case, he keeps on digging. He can never let go until he finds all the answers.
Macdonald isn't as popular now as his progenitors, Hammett and Chandler. Some readers complain that the plots develop too slowly, and The Drowning Pool doesn't have a murder until more than 60 pages have gone by. Macdonald is more interested in setting up the characters than in presenting a murder on the first page. Other readers might find the book a bit dated. It's not, certainly, in its environmental concerns, though the treatment of homosexuality is a bit off-putting to modern eyes. Still, the narrative works just fine for me, pulling me a long as easily as it did the first time I read the book, nearly 50 years ago. There's even some snappy patter that Spenser would envy.
While this book isn't Macdonald's best, it's still quite good. Macdonald could plot, and he could write. It's no wonder that Macdonald remains one of my favorite p. i. writers.
This post originally appeared on 12/24/10, minus the first paragraph, which has been added for this appearance.
Art Bourgeau, A Lonely Way to Die, Charter, 1980
