Deals « Friends/Family/Fans of Max Allan Collins

Girl for Sale, A Legend in His Own Mind & Two Sad Passings

Tuesday, March 7th, 2023

Girl Can’t Help It will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, now through 3/31/2023. It’s $2.49 during the promotion period. Executive Order will be available during the same promotional period for $2.99.

If you haven’t read Girl Can’t Help It yet, please consider taking advantage of this offer. It’s the only novel of mine at Amazon’s Thomas & Mercer that hasn’t “earned out,” which stalled any further entries in the series (and they haven’t wanted anything from me since, despite my selling something like a million books!).

Executive Order is the third novel in the Reeder and Rogers Trilogy by Matt Clemens and me, and like the other books in the series it was spookily prescient. You don’t have to have read the first two to jump onboard.

E-Book:

* * *

I have been chosen as a Muscatine Community College “Legend,” which involves an event that includes a dinner and various things and stuff, coming up on March 30 (a Thursday evening).

Legends of MCC Promo

This information rather pointedly doesn’t mention the price – a hefty $75 – but that’s because it’s a fundraiser for the college. It’s another of these really nice honors – like the MWA Grandmaster – that has a bittersweet tinge, because it implies to the recipient that maybe you’ve been at this long enough and should look for a porch with a rocking chair.

More info on the event is here.

And on the following evening, March 31, we will be presenting the “movie” version of Mickey Spillane’s Encore for Murder at Muscatine Community College’s black box theater (this will definitely not cost seventy-five bucks). “Movie” is in quotes because it was edited together from multiple camera footage of last September’s live presentation of the Golden Age Radio-style play starring Gary Sandy. More on this on next week’s update!

Muscatine Community College played a big role in my life. My father taught music there (and at the high school) and one of my key mentors, Keith Larson, taught at MCC for many years. Keith was a farmer and a poet and a dryly funny man with a gift for language – I’ve written about him here and elsewhere before.

In attending Muscatine Community College, I made the decision to turn down a couple of football scholarships (I’ve have been killed) and a Creative Writing scholarship at Iowa Wesleyan (where I’d won several high-school writing awards), and also not to follow many of my fellow high school classmates to the University of Iowa. I had my band the Daybreakers going and wanted to stick with that, so I chose MCC instead. Also, I wasn’t really ready to leave home yet. As an only child, I had a good gig going with my parents. I just wasn’t ready for a future away from what I knew, having no idea that I would in two years be getting married to the lovely Barbara Mull.

Muscatine Community College turned out to be both an excellent school – another mentor came into my life, Jack Lockridge, a tough ex-Marine with a warm heart – and the place where Barb and I sickened our fellow classmates with our obvious hallway affection for each other. Barb and I had been friends for years, but it blossomed into something that has lasted since the Fall of 1966. Seems to have taken.

I taught Freshman English and Literature at MCC for the first five years after graduating from the University of Iowa (and the Writers Workshop). Actually, there was overlap – my last semester at the Workshop coincided with my first semester of teaching at MCC.

So this honor is particularly sweet, and apt.

Speaking of Barb, she and I celebrated my 75th birthday (March 3rd) with an overnight stay in Galena, Illinois, a favorite getaway spot of ours, and the site of my novels Girl Most Likely and Girl Can’t Help It.

We ate at several of our favorite restaurants, including Vinnie Vanucchi’s on my birthday and, the next morning, the best breakfast restaurant in the Midwest, Otto’s Place. That’s the pic I’ve included here.

The trip was about 75% great, and Barb was 100% wonderful throughout. But 25% of it reminded me why nowadays we seldom go anywhere that requires an overnight stay. For one thing, I have endeavored to make our house a great place not to have to leave – for example, the entertainment options – including my ridiculously huge library of laserdiscs, DVDs and Blu-rays, not to mention the CDs and books – are considerable. My late pal, actor Michael Cornelison, used to say he wanted to take all of his vacations at our house (he did once, too!).

Among the frustrations of our overnight stay at the Irish Cottage Inn (where we have visited many times – not really a cottage but a three-story resort-type hotel) was the TV choices – movies available were all twenty-bucks-a-pop On Demand stuff, much of which we had free at home (or “free,” i.e., were already paying for it). Previously the hotel had included HBO and other such movie channels.

We splurged on a room with a Jacuzzi and a separate bedroom (I believe you rich folks call that a “suite”) and discovered, much too late, that the Irish Cottage no longer supplied amenities like shampoo, conditioner, and a soap dispenser in the shower, instead providing one small bar of soap. Two tubs, two sinks, and one sliver of soap.

I discussed this, in a non-hysterical way, on check-out with a bearded youth who politely reminded me that “one bar of bathroom soap” was provided and I could have come down to the desk for more soap if need be. I wish I had, naked and wringing wet.

The getaway managed to be pleasant and well worth taking, but it was something of a reminder that the post-Covid world is one where restaurants and hotels have seized upon the excuse to dispense with many of the extras their patrons had come to expect.

My apologies for this update dissolving like a sliver of soap into a YELP! Review. Some of this is old age, and the indignities thereof. That I am expected to have a host of Apps (a term I despise almost as much as “dropped”) and endure being paged at restaurants via text (I do not text, not being a 16-year-old high school girl). Was it just last week that my wife warned me not to become Harlan Ellison? In other words, a curmudgeon?

What I am wrestling with, more than anything, is how to pace myself at this age. I wanted to complete the new Mike Hammer, Dig Two Graves, before we went on this getaway. Going on a trip with a chapter or two waiting to be written would make me nuts (nuttier). Also, the book needs to get into the hands of my editor at Titan, the great Andrew Sumner, who has been incredibly patient with me. When I see the cover on line and realize people are already ordering a book I have not yet finished writing, I get nervous.

I set myself a goal commensurate with the young me’s abilities, and wrote the novel in a blistering three weeks. That, I figured, would allow me to enjoy myself unburdened on our getaway. But I did not factor in small things like mental and physical exhaustion. In Galena, where a lot of walking is required, I ran out of steam fairly quickly, which was followed by the fun and games at the hotel, described above. (I spared you the hotel-room saga of my laptop insisting I run updates and then requiring me to enter a password I did not have.)

I share this with you, in part, because some of you have in the past gone to book signings in Chicago and other distant locales, and seen Barb and me at Bouchercons and San Diego Comic Cons, fairly regularly. These trips are either over or are going to be incredibly infrequent. We are pulling in and slowing down. (Me slowing down is still faster than most.)

Please know that I hate this. Getting away is good for the soul. I enjoy spending time with readers and my fellow creative types, authors, cartoonists, and filmmakers. I am exploring ways to do more right here in this smaller world, including some fairly ambitious things, like a return to filmmaking – we are seriously considering finally shooting Blue Christmas. But doing it right here in smalltown Muscatine, where I can go home at the end of the day to my bed and my happy little domicile and my preternaturally beautiful wife.

And when I say I wrote Dig Two Graves in three weeks, I must admit I’m not really finished – ahead is re-reading the book by way of a hard-copy manuscript, seeking typos, inconsistencies and sections that need tweaking. So how long did it take me start to finish? Call it a month.

I have no opinion about how long writing a novel should take. Dig Two Graves is relatively short – 50,000 words or so. Barb takes much longer on her drafts – six months at least. There is no rule. For me, I like to stay burrowed in, living in the novel, to give it consistency of tone and vision (so does Barb, it’s just a longer process for her). I like each book to have its own feel. To be a different place I visit.

So that much visiting, that much travel, I intend to keep taking.

* * *

Tom Sizemore as Quarry in the Last Lullaby

The first-rate, troubled actor Tom Sizemore has passed away. He played Quarry (re-named “Price”) in The Last Lullaby, and made a terrific older version of the character. Amid the sadness, I was delighted to hear that Sizemore had considered The Last Lullaby one of his favorite projects, and Price/Quarry one of his favorite roles.

This Quarry/Price name change business had to do with my displeasure with the director, Jeffrey Goodman, having brought in a second writer on the script. I wanted to make sure no sequel could follow. My script, right when I was momentarily hot as the creator of Road to Perdition, was what was used to raise the money. My novel, The Last Quarry, was a novelization of that script and will show you what I had in mind.

The changes weren’t radical and The Last Lullaby is a movie I am happy with (if disappointed it wasn’t my version, of course). I could have pulled the plug on the production when my script was rewritten without my knowledge, but we negotiated and I got a better pay day out of it, plus was able to give copious notes on the rewrite (which the director mostly followed). So I feel grateful that the movie exists and that Sizemore made such a great Quarry. He really is closer to my concept than the Cinemax version, where the actor (otherwise fine) ignored the wry humor that is such a part of my Quarry.

I never met Sizemore, and was not on set for the shooting of a script co-written by me and someone else I never met. But I am saddened by his passing, and only hope his fine work on screen in The Last Lullaby and in a lot of other films overshadows in years to come his tabloid misadventures.

Here is info on where to stream The Last Lullaby.

It’s available here on DVD for a mere $7.99.

* * *

I want also to note, sorrowfully, the passing of my friend Bill Mumy’s musical partner, Robert Haimer, the other half of the brilliant Barnes & Barnes.

Here’s what Bill had to say on Facebook:

I’m so sad to share the news that Robert Haimer, my friend since childhood and musical partner in Barnes & Barnes passed away this morning after a long illness. Robert was a one of a kind artist and person. Our relationship was based on harmony as was our music. Sometimes there was dissonance and silence and sometimes we made a mighty raucous roar together. I will miss making that unique “Barnes” music very much. Robert made many people happy with his talent and his humor. “Fish Heads,” our biggest hit, came from the mind of Robert Haimer. As with a lot of our catalogue, I just helped him fill in the blanks. I’m feeling stunned and somewhat shattered right now. My love to his wife Faithe, his sons Wynn and Ian, his brother Brian and all who knew and loved him. Robert’s music lives on. Enjoy it. yeah

M.A.C.

Tags: Blue Christmas, Deals, Dig Two Graves, Executive Order, Girl Can't Help It, Krista and Keith Larson, Mickey Spillane, Mike Hammer, Passings, Reeder and Rogers
Posted in Message from M.A.C. | 3 Comments »

Spillane Bio Positive Praise & My Bad Attitudes

Tuesday, February 21st, 2023

Wonderful reviews are still coming in for Spillane – King of Pulp Fiction by Jim Traylor and me. We’ll start with this one, from the first-rate Shelf Awareness site:

Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction
by James L Traylor and Max Allan Collins

Mickey Spillane (1918-2006), one of the top-selling pulp mystery writers, gets his first-ever biography with Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction, a splendid, intimate and well-researched achievement by Max Allan Collins and James L. Traylor. The two have previously co-written books about Spillane, and Collins (Scarface and the Untouchable, with A. Brad Schwartz) co-authored/completed more than a dozen Spillane novels that were discovered and published posthumously. But this is the first full-length biography about the prolific author. For years, Spillane said he didn’t want anyone writing his biography because he was going to write it himself. This book contains Spillane’s entire autobiographical output–all 11 pages. (It ends in the middle of a sentence.)

Spillane gained national attention in 1947 when I, the Jury, his debut novel, introduced his violent private-eye-as-avenging-hero, Mike Hammer. The hardcover sold respectably, but the paperback sales were amazing. One book dealer reported selling 25,000 copies in one day. More Hammer novels were released from 1950-52 (including his only New York Times bestseller, Kiss Me, Deadly, and Vengeance Is Mine!, notable because it saves its surprise ending until the very last word). And then there was a decade of publishing silence. Collins and Traylor, polished writers and expert researchers, not only discover why Spillane refused to publish for a decade but also uncover his pseudonyms.

The two authors are strong and persuasive advocates of Spillane’s novels. Few readers will be able to resist sampling Spillane’s work after reading this engaging and definitive biography of the surprisingly affable tough-guy writer. –Kevin Howell, independent reviewer and marketing consultant

Here’s the review in context at the Shelf Awareness site:
https://www.shelf-awareness.com/sar-issue.html?issue=1161#m21157

I admit I was frustrated when I saw J. Kingston Pierce give a lot of space in the Rap Sheet to a new James Ellroy bio, a book that will likely knock Jim Traylor and me out of Edgar competition thanks to the brigade of “Demon Dog” acolytes. While I don’t generally criticize (in public) other writers in the genre, I have not hidden my contempt for the subject of this bio, or anyway his fiction; the very title of the bio (Love Me Fierce in Danger) announces the silly tin-ear pseudo noir poetry of this self-professed master.

I don’t say this to court an argument – this is my opinion and I’m unlikely to be swayed from it. I am also aware that a lot of smart people (probably a good number who are smarter than me) disagree with my harsh assessment of a writer I consider a fraud. It’s entirely possible that I’m wrong. But I’m counting on posterity to see through the Emperor’s lack of clothes.

No, I mention this because it demonstrates a battle I’m having with myself to focus on what’s important (my family, my health, my work) and not get caught up in my tendency toward petty resentment. My initial reaction to seeing Jeff Pierce give so much space to this particular competitor of mine was a knee-jerk one – a combination of what-am-I-chopped-liver? and childish annoyance.

Then the next day, there Jeff was at January magazine saying wonderful things about Spillane – King of Pulp Fiction. It made me feel like a fool, and I am exposing myself as one in sharing this reaction with you. But I’ll also share what Jeff (whose Rap Sheet is the definitive mystery fiction web column) had to say about Spillane:

Crime Fiction: Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction by Max Allan Collins and James L. Traylor

February 16, 2023 J. Kingston Pierce.

“The chewing gum of American literature” is how crime novelist Mickey Spillane described his books, which typically blended eye-for-an-eye justice with risqué innuendos and granite-chinned philosophizing (“Too many times naked women and death walked side by side”). And boy, did readers eat up his fiction, making his first Mike Hammer private-eye yarn, 1947’s I, the Jury, into a best-seller that spawned a dozen sequels and turned its protagonist into a radio, film, and TV fixture. Spillane developed his own media persona along the way, part-Hammer (he portrayed his Gotham gumshoe in a 1963 film, The Girl Hunters) and part-ham (he spoofed himself in a succession of Miller Lite beer commercials). In this enlightening biography, fellow writers Collins (his friend and posthumous collaborator) and Traylor make the most of their extraordinary access to Spillane’s personal archives, delivering incisive perspectives on his comic-book years, his multiple marriages, his pugnaciousness and wont to embellish the facts of his life, his surprising conversion by Jehovah’s Witnesses, his vexation with Hollywood, and his eventual recognition by peers who’d earlier condemned him as “a vulgar pulpmeister.” This book’s paramount success, though, is in casting Spillane as a trendsetting stylist, who recognized early the value of paperback publication and helped shape late-20th-century detective fiction.

Here is the January Magazine post in all its glory: https://januarymagazine.com/wp/crime-fiction-spillane-king-of-pulp-fiction-by-max-allan-collins-and-james-l-traylor/

I made one minor correction here – the original review puts I, the Jury’s publication at 1945, but it’s 1947. We are still in the 75th anniversary year of Mike Hammer’s first appearance.

I am and have always been very competitive, and that feeds pettiness and resentment, which isn’t entirely bad in the first two acts of a writer’s life. But in the third act the focus ought to focus onto just the work itself – what you are able to accomplish in the time you have left.

But old habits are hard to shake. So last week when I was approached via e-mail by a bookshop owner (a dying breed unfortunately) about a possible signing, I had certain knee-jerk reactions. First, this bookshop proprietor is a sweet guy and has always been a supporter of my work (and Barb’s). When we stopped doing signings for other people, we kept doing his. Nonetheless, I experienced certain irritations. In particular, I can’t remember once in a number of decades when this very nice man ever said anything positive about my (our) work. And he always took me aside to tell me with great enthusiasm about some mystery writer (some writer who wasn’t me) he had recently discovered.

If I were a mature, grounded individual – a state I aspire to but haven’t yet reached – I would interpret this behavior in a positive way. This individual probably thought his liking for my (our) work was obvious – after all, he was booking us back into his shop for signings regularly. He looked at me as someone interested in mystery fiction and wanted to share his enthusiasm for new discoveries in the genre.

Nothing wrong with that.

But again, a part of me responded: what am I, chopped liver? And I had said, numerous times in presentations at his shop, that I did not read current mystery writers for a multitude of reasons (which I’ve discussed here at length).

Last week he e-mailed me about doing a signing. Barb and I have not, obviously, done any signings in recent years. First came the open-heart surgery in 2016 and 2017, and then Covid. And, of course, we are both approaching age 75. (This appearance would require a four-hour drive one-way and an overnight stay, at our expense of course.) But we had already discussed that this particular bookshop was a place we wouldn’t mind signing at again, maybe one last time…but at least one last time.

The shop owner’s invitation to do a signing included a strong suggestion that we “share the stage” with another writer, who was also from Iowa and who was a big fan of mine and had met me a number of times. Okay – only I don’t remember meeting him (doesn’t mean I haven’t) but I have read a number of interviews and articles with and about him, and my name (probably the best known writer in the state of Iowa) (not a huge distinction) never came up. This was accompanied by praise for this writer from the bookshop owner and one of his customers, who had recently discovered this other Iowa author.

I stewed about this for several days, feeling insulted. (Exactly the kind of behavior I am trying to shake.) When I responded to the e-mail, I did my best to stay positive and friendly. But I did take a hard pass on “sharing the stage” with a fellow Iowan author.

The bookshop owner – an incredibly nice man – has not responded to my e-mail, probably astounded by my attitude.

I guess I have a prickly side. Or maybe just a prick side. But I am generally friendly and jokey and it surprises people when I recoil at stuff like this. I wrote here about how offended another (ex-)bookshop owner was that I didn’t express gratitude for being sent a laundry list of errors in The Big Bundle I’d supposedly made (and some I had, but a good number weren’t errors at all).

Last week I discussed how I didn’t consider teaching to involve “heavy lifting,” after which I got scolded (rightly) for diminishing the tough role of teachers. But I thought I’d been clear that I was talking about my own teaching experience – how I’d been able to fake it and just use my gift of gab to get by. That it had not been my finest hour. To me, teaching is – or should be – a calling. At West Junior High, Terry Beatty’s father fueled my love for reading. At Muscatine High School, Mr. Robinson encouraged me to write (and a teacher I despised, Miss Fogerty, taught me everything I know about grammar and usage, God bless her). At Muscatine Community College, Keith Larson – farmer poet – taught me to love the sound of words, and Jack Lockridge – tattooed ex-Marine history teacher – turned me from an Ayn Rand conservative into a left-of-center Democrat in one session. At the University of Iowa, in the Writers Workshop, Richard Yates encouraged me to layer more and more reality onto my melodrama, and got me my first agent.

These were great people. I was not their equal. Barely their peer. There was never any heavier lifting done than what these teachers did with the raw clay of my desire to tell stories.

On the other hand, I will not censor myself here (my son Nate is in charge of that). I present my thoughts and, to some degree, my opinions here, unfiltered and unvarnished.

* * *

The new version of Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane (my 1999 documentary) is complete. It used to run 47 minutes and now is 61 minutes. We’ll be delivering it to VCI Home Video, along with the 90-minute Encore for Murder program (as bonus content) next week.

Here’s a reminder that Supreme Justice will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, now through 2/28/2023, offered at 2.99 USD during the promotion period.

M.A.C.

Tags: Deals, Encore for Murder, Mike Hammer's Mickey Spillane, On Writing, Reviews, Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction, Supreme Justice
Posted in Message from M.A.C. | 5 Comments »

Bundle and Spillane Reviews – And Audio!

Tuesday, February 7th, 2023

For those of you who have never tried one of the three Reeder and Rogers political thrillers, written by Matt Clemens and me, the first of the trilogy – Supreme Justice – will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, starting 2/1/2023 and running through 2/28/2023. It will be available at $2.99 during the promotion period.

This is one of my bestselling books (the trilogy has sold in the hundreds of thousands) and a novel readers mention to me all the time. But readers of Nate Heller, Quarry and Mike Hammer sometimes skip these books. I think those readers would enjoy them.

Here’s another good review of Spillane – King of Pulp Fiction, although the reviewer questions whether I should be writing about Mickey since the Mick and I were friends. Apparently having an inside track is a bad thing….

The very smart and articulate Ed Catto has written a honey of a Big Bundle review at the Pop Culture Squad site. I will immodestly share it with you now:

The Big Bundle
By Max Allan Collins

It’s so good to start the year off with another Nate Heller thriller. Like so many in this series, this mystery is brilliant. It’s hard to believe, but about 35 years ago I stumbled across Max Allan Collins’ first story featuring Heller. I had enjoyed the Ms. Tree strip, written by Collins and illustrated by Terry Beatty and Collins’ Batman adventures (although not everyone did.)

Nate Heller is a fictional detective, a hero yet a flawed person full of many regrets, who typically gets involved with the biggest cases and personalities in the last 50 years. Collins has written stories where Heller gets involved with the gangsters who ‘created’ Las Vegas, the Lindbergh kidnapping, Marilyn Monroe’s death, Huey Long’s assassination and more. And just when you think Collins has exhausted all the good stuff, the next novel comes roaring back.

The latest historical adventure, The Big Bundle, has a lot of roar in it. This one focuses on the Greenlease kidnapping in the 50s. I didn’t know anything about this one, and I don’t know much about St. Louis’s history, despite visiting the city a couple of times. My trips there were nothing like Heller’s, though. He gets into it all in a way that turns what you thought was going to be a casual read into a “I can’t put this down” book.

These Heller books are meticulously researched with juicy details. I found myself pausing to run down little rabbit holes along the way. For example, Heller rides the historical landmark Angel’s Flight. It was described in such a way that I had to learn more about this narrow gauge funicular railway. When I’m reading, I usually like to leave my cellphone in the other room, but with this Heller mystery, I had to keep it handy for additional research. Collins tends to introduce me to so many fascinating places, events and people.

As a writer, Collins always finds innovative ways to describe people and settings. This is a crime thriller to be sure, but I often pause at the clever descriptions. For example.

The hero walks into a diner and Collins gives the reader something to think about and to remember: ”The bedraggled adults in booths and at tables were like predictions of how the town’s teens would turn out.”

Or earlier in the novel, as Heller meets a key character: “In his mid-thirties, my host was of average height and weight with a squared-off head and a rounded jaw, his forehead so high it was like his features had slipped down too far on his oval face.”

After reading a novel like this, my pal Mike Gold used to always make the joke “If you only read one Max Allan Collins novel this month, make it this one.” The gag still holds up and it’s truer than ever.

The only way I could get a better review is to write it myself…although actually I’m pretty hard on myself. If you want to read Ed’s review in context, go here.

While I’m wallowing in a self-congratulatory stew, here’s the fine Mystery Scene review (in its final newsstand issue – damnit!) of The Big Bundle:

The Big Bundle
Hard Case Crime, January 2023, $25.95
by Max Allan Collins

Opening in October 1953, Max Allan Collins’ 18th Nathan Heller adventure finds the middle-aged detective in Kansas City, consulting on a kidnapping, this time involving Bobby Greenlease, the 6-year-old son of multimillionaire auto dealer Robert Cosgrove Greenlease, Sr. Although Heller works with both the local police and the FBI, the case ends tragically, with the death of the child and half of the ransom money seemingly vanished.

Collins then fast forwards to August 1958, as Heller covertly investigates what happened to the missing ransom, at the behest of both Jimmy Hoffa and Robert F. Kennedy, who want to uncover the sordid truth about the tainted money.

Simply put, if you’ve enjoyed this series thus far, you’ll find plenty to like about Collins’ latest fictional foray, as, like previous installments, the story expertly interweaves fact and fiction in an entertaining and winning manner. If you’re new to the series, this is a great place to start, as it finds Collins at the top of his considerable game.

The author’s crisp writing and canny plotting, supplemented by his thorough and revealing research, are on ample display from start to finish. It’s an impressive piece of work, especially when you consider that this MWA Grandmaster, who has been at it for close to half a century now, doesn’t falter once.

Now let me give The Big Bundle my own good review – no, not my writing, but the reading Dan John Miller brings to narrating the book on the Recorded Books audio of the novel. On various car rides, Barb and I have been listening to it (we’re deep into the second of two sections) and are blown away by how much Dan “gets it.” He has read every Heller on audio to date, and he’s really become the voice of Nathan Heller. As I’ve said before, I don’t really feel like a Heller exists until I hear Dan John Miller read it.

Dan John Miller

Another great narrator who deserves kudos is Stefan Rudnicki of Skyboat, who has taken over the unenviable task of stepping into Stacy Keach’s shoes in reading the Mike Hammer novels. He is also Quarry these days, and Skyboat’s Gabrielle de Cuir has just completed reading Fancy Anders for the Boys. Stefan and Gabrielle’s production of Fancy Anders Goes Hollywood is wonderful – with sound effects and music – so I expect great things.

Stefan Rudnicki

Gabrielle de Cuir

And speaking of Fancy Anders, you can now pre-order the second book (as a trade paperback, e-book and audio), right here. Fancy Anders For the Boys finds her working undercover on a murder case at the movie star-flung Hollywood Canteen.

* * *

Two documentaries, streaming right now, are worth your time, particularly if you’re interested in the history of pop and rock music.

Joan Jett

The Joan Jett documentary, Bad Reputation (2018), looks at the phenomenal rocker whose story is a fascinating bumpy ride, starting with the Runaways and continuing up to her Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame induction. The tough road any rock artist trods is even tougher for women, and the sacrifices a road warrior takes on personally are a constant undercurrent. Excellent doc. It’s on Hulu and Prime Video, among others (and in some theaters).

Dionne Warwick

HBO Max is perhaps best known right now for what it’s dropping (and not as in new programming “dropping,” but in the where-the-hell’s-the-content sense). But right now they have an excellent Dionne Warwick documentary – Don’t Make Me Over – which is a loving but unflinching look at this amazing artist. What became readily apparent to me was how Warwick coming together with the team of Burt Bacharach and Hal David was one of the most fortunate collaborations in the history of popular music – that neither the singer nor the songwriters would not likely have had the enormous pop cultural impact without each other. Like Joan Jett, Warwick is a strong, opinionated woman who used her position in the music industry to do good things for humanity…and never in a self-serving manner. I found this documentary extremely moving and highly recommend it.

M.A.C.

Tags: Deals, Fancy Anders For the Boys, Mickey Spillane, Nate Heller, Reeder and Rogers, Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction, Supreme Justice, The Big Bundle
Posted in Message from M.A.C. | 6 Comments »

Nathan Heller, Blue Christmas Project & Mickey Spillane

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2023

I have just completed my proofing of the typeset version of Too Many Bullets, the next (and perhaps final) Nathan Heller novel, coming from Hard Case Crime in the fall of 2023, which seems to be the year we find ourselves in.

A certain number of the hearty souls who check in here regularly (and also those who show up irregularly) are readers of my Quarry, Nolan and other series whose entries run in the traditional 60,000 words or so length. Some others may be comics fan who are interested in Ms. Tree, Road to Perdition and my other occasional forays into graphic noveldom.

This means, these readers have not yet sampled Nathan Heller, the series I consider my best and most significant work. It may be because the books deal with history and these readers are unaware that historical subject matter does not discourage me from trafficking in sex and violence; or perhaps they are put off by the length – these two HCC Heller novels are 80,000 words each. I say gently to these folks that another 20,000 words or so will not kill you, nor will the historical content, although the research for these two recent Hellers damn near killed me. I remind these readers that later this month (delayed by a dock strike in London) physical copies of the new Heller, The Big Bundle, will be available. The e-book and (I think) the audio versions are both available now.

But a certain kind of reader – I will not go so far as to invoke OCD or Anal Retentive tendencies, having both of those conditions myself – won’t start reading a new series anywhere but the beginning. Despite my concerted efforts to make each Heller novel stand alone, such readers are stubborn about starting at the start.

For that reason I am pleased to announce that True Detective (1983) will be promoted via Amazon Monthly Deals: starting 1/1/2023 and running through 1/31/2023, the first Nathan Heller novel (a winner of the Best Novel Shamus from the Private Eye Writers of America) will be offered on e-book at 1.99 USD.

* * *

Doing the read-through (and tweaking of) Too Many Bullets was an interesting experience. I felt generally very good about the book – in fact, I was really satisfied with it and felt like it showed me at the top of my game.

And I was writing well during the months of actual writing (many months of research preceded that), despite having health issues then, including two brief hospital stays related to my A-fib. But despite what I felt was a high standard of work, I also came across uncharacteristic lapses – word repetition, pronoun confusion, and occasional lack of clarity.

It was odd to see me with my powers intact but now and then flagging, probably due to those health issues. Thankfully I am doing much better on that front, but it was sobering to see the lapses. I’m sure advancing age is another factor. But I will keep at this as long as my marbles are more or less intact.

Still, I’m sure my HCC editor Charles Ardai will wince when he sees I am sending 44 correction pages out of 300 hundred pages or so.

As for whether there will be another Heller novel after Too Many Bullets, that depends on sales, frankly. I have yet to write the major Heller/Hoffa novel I’ve had in mind for, oh, thirty years.

But we are at least nearing the end of Heller’s run. The research is just too daunting for a duffer.

* * *

About a month ago, here, I wrote this (feel free to skip):

I’ve told this story before, but I’ll tell it again on the occasion of the Christmas Season. Just before Thanksgiving 1992 – right before – I received a letter from the Chicago Tribune Syndicate editor letting me go from the Dick Tracy strip after my 15 year run. Shortly thereafter Bantam cancelled Nate Heller and returned the novel Carnal Hours to me after the editor there had accepted it enthusiastically. (The previous entry, Stolen Away, had won the Best Novel “Shamus” award from the Private Eye Writers of America.)

On Christmas Eve 1992, still shellshocked, I wrote “A Wreath for Marley,” the lead story in the Blue Christmas collection ($2.99 on e-book). It has been published several times, including in the Otto Penzler anthology, The Big Book of Christmas Mysteries. The story is what they call (hideously) a “mash-up” – of A Christmas Carol and The Maltese Falcon. Its significance is that it showed me getting back into the game after two bad batterings. The story is a long one, probably 15,000 words, and was done in one fevered sitting. It remains my favorite short story of mine.

It almost became my second indie movie – there’s a script, you will not be surprised to learn – but the success of Mommy led to us deciding to do Mommy’s Day instead.

Since I wrote this post, I’ve been exploring – with Chad Bishop, who put together Encore for Murder with me as a video presentation (stay tuned) – mounting a production of Blue Christmas here in Muscatine that could be presented as a live performance but also shot as a feature much as we did Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life.

But Blue Christmas exists as a novella and as a film script, and no live performance version was ever written. Adding a second level of problems, er, challenges, a script for the stage is needed, with an eye on putting together the feature. So it needed to be a hybrid – a screenplay written for the live-performance stage.

Does your head hurt yet?

Still, I have long intended to someday take the time to write a stage play version of Blue Christmas. It’s a story I believe in and that has special resonance for me, as the piece of fiction I wrote on a long-ago Christmas eve that got me back up on the one-horse sleigh writing again after having my career get yanked out from under me.

Anyway, I spent a week on it, over Christmas (appropriately) and I’m very happy with it. Putting together a piece that was intended to have fairly elaborate special effects for a low-budget indie film and doing it instead live on stage…tricky. I am proud of how I solved the challenges…the problems…as the only stage play I’ve previously written is Eliot Ness.

But, as I say, it’s set up in a screenplay manner, in part because we are going after a couple of grants that are intended for backing low-budget feature films, not stage productions.

In the meantime, I’m entering Encore for Murder in a couple of Iowa film festivals, getting back in the game a little. As much as I love writing fiction – and even relish the solitary nature of it – I have to admit I’m never happier than when I’m in an editing suite working with my pal, Phil Dingeldein. And working with Chad Bishop has been a joy, as well.

Speaking of Phil, last Thursday he and a two-person crew – Justin Hall and Hannah Miner – came to Muscatine and shot the additional footage for our expanded version of Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane. The original documentary was shot in 1998 and released in 1999, and this brings the Spillane story up to date, from Mickey’s final years through the work I’ve done completing his unfinished manuscripts.

We are talking to VCI, who have released a lot of my stuff in the past (but never the Spillane doc) and hope to include Encore for Murder as a bonus feature. It’s a natural flow as we have Gary Sandy talking about playing Mike Hammer in the new documentary footage.

* * *

Here’s a two-party review of several of my Batman issues. These fans don’t realize that I was subjected to artist changes (artists who apparently didn’t have access to character designs from the previous issue!) and that no Batman “bible” existed, meaning I had to fly by my bat wings into unknown backstory territory. They do like my Penguin story, however.

Road to Perdition is back on Netflix.

Finally, here’s a great write-up on the forthcoming Nolan two-fer, Mad Money.

M.A.C.

Tags: Batman, Blue Christmas, Deals, Encore for Murder, Mad Money, Mickey Spillane, Mike Hammer, Mike Hammer's Mickey Spillane, Nate Heller, Nolan, Road to Perdition, The Big Bundle, Too Many Bullets, True Detective
Posted in Message from M.A.C. | 6 Comments »

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