Posts Tagged ‘Supreme Justice’

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Kindle Deals, a Spillane Nom, A Beck & Woods Blurb, New Reviews of Old Movies, and More!

Tuesday, June 4th, 2024
Supreme Justice cover
What Doesn't Kill Her

Supreme Justice will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, starting 6/1/2024 and running through 6/30/2024. The book (topical as hell right now!) will be offered at 2.99 USD during the promotion period.

What Doesn’t Kill Her will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, starting 6/1/2024 and running through 6/30/2024. The novel will be offered at 1.99 USD during the promotion period.

Both are written by Matt Clemens and me.

* * *
Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction cover

Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction by James L. Traylor and me has been nominated for the Macavity Award in the
Best Mystery-related Nonfiction/Critical category.

The Macavity Award is named for the “mystery cat” of T.S. Eliot (Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats). Each year the members of Mystery Readers International nominate and vote for their favorite mysteries in five categories.

I am not sure when or where the winners are announced. We were up for the Edgar, and lost, as you might recall; and are up for the Anthony, which will be announced at this year’s Bouchercon (which we will not be attending, as I will be shooting an indie movie then). If you are an eligible voter in the Macavity Awards or the Anthony Awards, please keep us in mind.

Our dashed hopes of winning the Edgar (I never really thought that was a possibility, frankly) have been soothed by the knowledge that we are a thrice-nominated book in our category. If we can just win one, Spillane will be an award-winning book; but even short of that, these multiple nominations are a nice validation of the decades of work by Jim and me that went into a book for which I feel a good deal of pride and accomplishment.

One of my missions in life has been to get Mickey Spillane some of the recognition denied him by the mystery community over these many decades, despite the boost he gave to the genre as a whole. The number of careers in mystery fiction that Mickey made possible with his success is difficult to overstate – the entire genre got a shot in the arm (and elsewhere).

* * *

Barb and I celebrated our 56th wedding anniversary on June 1. We had a nice overnight getaway at Galena, Illinois, a favorite haunt of ours. Here’s Barb and me (with one of us looking radiant and young) (hint: not me) at a restaurant we adore, Vinny Vanucchi’s.

Max Allan and Barbara Collins at Vinny Vanucchi's

Even an overnight trip, however, can be a little daunting these days. We feel much more comfortable at home, the familiar surroundings encouraging both work and play. I have sleep issues that staying in a hotel acerbate. This is why you don’t see us doing book signings, attending conventions, and doing other public appearances very often. As much as we like interacting with readers/fans/friends, it’s a dicey proposition, leaving our little cave.

We are extremely lucky to have our son Nate and his family (wife Abby and grandkids Sam and Lucy) just up the street from us, making the households mutual support systems. As you know, if you follow these updates at all, I even managed to write and direct a movie not long ago – Blue Christmas – which will be distributed on home video by VCI and MVD, who will also be marketing it to streaming services.

We have even received a lovely blurb from Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, the talented creators of A Quiet Place: “Collins is a master of noir and activates a deep reservoir of affection for the genre in his latest noir chamber piece.” This is incredibly generous of Beck and Woods, who have been kind enough to single out my frequent cinematic collaborator Phil Dingeldein and me, as mentors.

Exciting (at least exciting to me) news about another indie feature film project will be announced here soon.

Also, the Nathan Heller audio production, True Noir (based on the novel True Detective) written by me and directed by my pal Robert Meyer Burnett, continues apace. I have completed and delivered the ten-episode script of the production to Rob, and the reviews from him and our distinguished cast members (we’ll be revealing more of them soon) have been wonderful. Unfortunately, our announced star Todd Stashwick had to step down, and we are in the process of recasting now.

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Strawberry Blonde poster

It’s no secret that I am as much a film buff as I am a bibliophile. And I have viewed a ridiculously large number of films in my time on Planet Earth, from the worst to the best. But a few classic films have, for no good reason, remained unwatched by me. I caught up with two recently: Strawberry Blonde with James Cagney, Olivia de Havilland and Rita Hayworth, directed by Raoul Walsh, written by the Epsteins of Casablanca fame; and Meet John Doe with Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck directed by Frank Capra and written by Robert Riskins.

Where to start? Both are 1941 films – in that sweet spot that began around 1939 and continued till World War Two kicked in, where Hollywood seemed to be at its creative zenith. The number of great character actors assembled for these two films is staggering: Jack Carson, Alan Hale and George Tobias, with future Superman George Reeves thrown in for good measure, in Strawberry Blonde; and Edward Arnold, James Gleason, Walter Brennan, Spring Byington, and Gene Lockhart in Meet John Doe. And a lot of others in both.

Let me interrupt myself to say that Barb and I, staying overnight in Galena at the Irish Cottage hotel, tried to watch a pay-for-view movie on the evening of May 31. The film we chose was Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire. How might I best describe this movie? Childish nonsense, poorly acted, although Rebecca Hall is actually pretty good, whereas Dan Stevens embarrasses himself and Bryan Tyree Henry is, as an African-American, saddled with a stereotypical role that Mantan Moreland would have rejected as beneath his dignity. We bailed half an hour into this CGI fest in which the best that could be said for the monsters is that they come off as more human than the humans.

Meanwhile, back in 1941, Warner’s is giving us Jimmy Cagney in a charming role that because of his artistry overcomes the character’s boorishness, with Oliva De Havilland etching a modern young woman (at the turn of the Twentieth Century) with humor and deftness, and the comic figures (Alan Hale, George Tobias, Jack Carson) all show considerable humanity and growth. I think I’d avoided this film because of its reputation as an Americana valentine to the “Band Played On” early 1900s; but there’s a lot of skill and surprising depth to what at first seems a nostalgia trifle. What comes across as wistful seemed to me, at a distance, as something saccharine. I was wrong. Warner Arcives has a Blu-ray out of this right now.

Meet John Doe poster

As for Meet John Doe, I had expected to encounter Frank Capra at his most populist excessive, and while I wasn’t entirely wrong, I also encountered a skewering of corporate America and a cynical MAGA-style movement taking advantage of its members shamelessly. The dark side of Meet John Doe is plenty dark, and the artistry of a great cast is plenty great. James Gleason (the unforgettable Corkle of Here Comes Mr. Jordan) does a drunk scene in medium close-up, seen past a mostly silent Gary Cooper, that may be the best single piece of screen acting I’ve ever witnessed. After a few comic moments – not overplayed, but broad as drunk scenes often were in those days – Gleason talks about enlisting to serve in the Great War and how his father enlisted, too. The emotions that play over his face are sublimely, subtlely rendered; and this comes from a character who has, till now, been perhaps the most cynical in the piece.

And Cooper’s character is at times the “yup”/”nope” creature he’s known for, but other times is talkative and even spechifying without betraying the simple roots of his character. He’s remarkable as is Barbara Stanwyck, who – like Gleason – travels from cynicism and self-interest to a realization of how she’s betrayed her journalistic goals, feeling her guilt in what was a terrible, hurtful hoax at heart.

Meet John Doe – which has just become available from Classic Flix on Blu-ray (the people who brought you I, the Jury and The Long Wait on Blu-ray!) in a beautifully restored edition – is a kind of pre-war rough draft of It’s a Wonderful Life, which is definitely a post-war take on the same (or similar) material. People don’t think of Meet John Doe as a Christmas movie, in the manner of It’s a Wonderful Life, but both films use Christmas as a powerful climax to stories that otherwise are not holiday-themed.

For a film buff, seeing a James Cagney picture by a great director with a fabulous supporting cast, or a Frank Capra movie starting Gary Cooper and other legendary supporting players, as if they are brand-new items, is frankly thrilling.

Also depressing, in the wake of such travesties as the Godzilla/King Kong rematch. Stick with the Japanese alternative.

By the way, Furiosa is excellent. And yet it’s the poster child for Hollywood’s inability to get in step with itself.

Get Meet John Doe here.

Get Strawberry Blonde here.

* * *

The Big Bundle, a Nathan Heller novel, is out in trade paperback now. Here’s a nice review.

M.A.C.

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A Kindle Sale, Argylle & I’m Famous! (In Iowa)

Tuesday, February 6th, 2024
The Million-Dollar Wound cover

For you Kindle readers, two novels of mine are being offered by Amazon this month. The Million-Dollar Wound, the third Nate Heller novel, will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, starting 2/1/2024 till the end of the month for $1.99.

Supreme Justice, the first novel in the trilogy of Reeder and Rogers novels by Matt Clemens and me, will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals in the US marketplace, starting 2/1/2024 till the end of the month at $2.99.

These are books I’m particularly proud of, respectively the novel in which Heller is a WW 2 Marine, and a political thriller that hasn’t dated a minute.

* * *

I am working on the script for am Antiques novel that, if all works out, will be my next indie movie. Blue Christmas really got my juices going. Much more later.

Once again, here is where you can get advance tickets for the Des Moines and Muscatine showings of Blue Christmas. The Cedar Rapids and Davenport advance ticket availability will be posted soon.

Advance tickets are on sale for the World Premiere of Blue Christmas in Des Moines at the Fleur Theater on February 24.
And the Muscatine, Iowa, premiere tickets are available here.

* * *

Barb and I are beginning to return to our habitual moviegoing ways – which post-Covid had till now been few and far between – and this weekend we took in Argylle.

Argylle Movie Poster with Bryce Howard

We had enjoyed director Matthew Vaughn’s Kingsman movies very much – cheerfully over the top, reminiscent of Guy Ritchie’s best films. We weren’t disappointed in this latest effort. In fact, we were pigs in excrement throughout.

But apparently a lot of people weren’t.

This twisty tongue-in-cheek take on the worlds of pop fiction writing and James Bond has already been deemed a flop (it brought in $18 million at the box office first week out). Rotten Tomatoes shows only a quarter of the reviewers liked the film, and only (?) seventy-five percent of the public liked it.

What does all of this prove? First, the critics have absolutely no taste much less sense of humor in these wretchedly humorless times. Second, the public is better, but not a big enough share of them went to this exciting, witty movie. And third, Barb and I have impeccable taste.

Basically (very basically) Argylle is about a young female writer’s romantic spy series (very much modeled on Bond) that begins to come to life. That’s all I’m going to tell you. This has more credible (in the world of this film anyway) twists than any film I can remember.

It slightly resembles the John Sand novels written by Matt Clemens and me, though I doubt the creators were familiar with those. The Sand novels, the sales of which have not set the world on fire (despite great reader and critical sense) (those critics know what they are talking about) is available here. If you like my work, or the Fleming Bond novels, you will probably like these.

Max Allan Collins Collection: Volume 2: John Sand cover

The complete series is available on Kindle here.

Anyway, Argylle. Don’t listen to the critics or that 25% of readers who didn’t like this film. Apple produced it and it will turn up on that streaming service fairly soon, but you really should take this in on the big screen.

Without spoiling anything, I can say that one of the reasons that 25% didn’t like the film is the advertising that focuses Henry Cavill as the Bond-like Argylle. But Cavill is the fantasy version and the reality version is portrayed by the great Sam Rockwell, playing opposite Bryce Dallas Howard, Ron’s talented daughter. Both Rockwell and Howard are fantastic in Argylle, and neither is exactly the Hollywood model of lead actors. Rockwell is scrawny and scruffy, and Howard – stunningly beautiful in my opinion – is what we used to call zaftig. Her fetching but undeniable heaviness has worked against her here, in this supposedly more inclusive culture. So does that advertising campaign that is at heart a bait-and-switch job.

Lemme tell ya: this is not a culture inclusive where old white guys are concerned. And apparently not to forty year-old actresses who aren’t anorexic (the female star of Argylle does not look even close to forty, by the way). Ms. Howard, you are welcome in Iowa to make a micro-budget movie with us any old time.

* * *

You really should check out this terrific review of the last (to date) Caleb York novel, Shoot-out at Sugar Creek, in a series Kensington chose not to continue. The only way this review could have been better is if I wrote it myself.

Check out these five interesting things to love about Dick Tracy…I’m one of ‘em!

Yes, these first two links take you to places that praise my work right before (a) one of my series got dropped, and (b) where the S.O.B.s fired me right before Christmas. On the other hand, the latter inspired me to write “A Wreath for Marley,” the basis of Blue Christmas – so thank you, Chicago Tribune Syndicate!

Here’s a great Killer Covers column by the great J. Kingston Pierce about the great Paul Mann, the artist who has done several of my recent covers at Hard Case Crime (three of the originals are on my office wall!).

This column credits the graphic novel Road to Perdition as one of the works that redefine Hollywood. You’re welcome!

And, finally, I’ll bet you didn’t know I was one of the 27 most famous people living in Iowa. I sure didn’t!

M.A.C.

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The Awesome ‘80s Prom & Memorial Day Thoughts

Tuesday, May 30th, 2023

This past Saturday evening (May 27) Barb and I attended the Awesome ‘80s Prom put on by my buddy Chad Bishop, who is the producer of the Blue Christmas project. Chad is a fun, funny, gifted guy and the evening he put together was a blast. There were Arcade games (a whole room of ‘em), New Wave music, food and (spiked) punch, and potential prom kings and queens trolling for votes. It’s one of those almost-a-plays that have structured elements but also have a large cast circulating as characters (prom attendees) and make it an interactive event.

We were accompanied by Barb’s sister Judy and our brother-in-law Gary, who admittedly looked a little more like he was attending the Manson Family Reunion than the Awesome ‘80s Prom.

Max and Barb at the Awesome '80s Prom
’80s Prom Goers!
Manson Family Reunion?
Manson Family Reunion?
* * *

J. Kingston Pierce, who for my money is the best friend the mystery/crime genre has here in the 21st Century, has posted info about the Blue Christmas crowd-funding effort – now in its final few days – that is better and more complete than I ever could:

Efforts by Iowa novelist Max Allan Collins to raise the money necessary to turn his A Christmas Carol-like detective short story, “Blue Christmas” (published in a 2001 collection), into a movie seem to be going well. With less than two days still to raise $5,000 through the crowdfunding site Indiegogo, he’s already brought in … $5,750!

Contributions are still being accepted here. As an incentive, if you pony up $25 to $500, Collins says you can write him at macphilms@hotmail.com to request copies of his older books to add to your collection. Click here to learn more about that offer.

Meanwhile, the author is hoping to score matching funds for this endeavor from the Produce Iowa-State Office of Film and Media’s Greenlight Grants program, which is designed to “support entrepreneurial projects that can accelerate business and careers in film.” Collins acknowledges, however, that there’s no guarantee he will succeed in this second venture, given the caliber of rival proposals. If Produce Iowa turns him down, he says he’ll mount a live production of Blue Christmas, which will be recorded.

More news on this matter to come.

Here is a link for the Rap Sheet post that includes this write-up.

* * *

Girl Most Likely will be promoted via Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Kindle book deals at Amazon, starting 6/1/2023 and running through 6/30/2023. The novel will be offered at 2.49 USD during the promotion period. If you haven’t tried one of the two Krista Larson novels, now is the time!

Fate of the Union (the second Reeder and Rogers thriller) is being offered during this same period at $3, and Flying Blind – one of my favorite Nate Heller novels – will be available at $1.99. The first of the three Reeder and Rogers novels, Supreme Justice, will be available at $2.99 for one day – June 3rd.

* * *

The great Paperback Warrior has posted a terrific review of Double Down, focusing on one of the two Nolan novels therein: Fly Paper.

Nolan #03 – Fly Paper

Max Allan Collins’ Nolan series is his pastiche of Richard Stark’s Parker series. The third novel in the chronology was Fly Paper written in 1973 but not published until 1981. The book has recently been repackaged by Hard Case Crime in a twofer marketed as Double Down.

For the uninitiated, Nolan is a hard-nosed thief who makes a living pulling heists that inevitably run into problems. Much of this book’s focus is on Jon, Nolan’s comic book collecting sidekick. The action kicks off with a colleague named Breen, who has a good thing going with a parking meter rip-off scam. Breen was working the coin theft organized by the redneck Comfort family before those hillbillies shot and double-crossed Breen landing him squarely in Nolan and Jon’s orbit.

This leads to a plan to rip off the Comfort family in a heist-the-heisters kinda deal. The action moves from Iowa to Detroit in the shadow of a large comic book convention. The heist itself is really a side-dish in the paperback with the main course being the commercial airline getaway that is interrupted by a skyjacking.

Between 1961 and 1972, there were 159 skyjackings in American airspace with the majority between 1968 and 1972. It was a vexing criminal social contagion without a clear solution – similar to the problem America currently faces with mass shootings. Collins draws upon this phenomenon as the backdrop of Fly Paper when a married guy plans a D.B. Cooper style airplane heist with a parachute getaway.

When Nolan and Jon are coincidentally on the plane as the dude takes control of the jet, the plotting and action soar. These are the best scenes in a book I’ve read in ages. The creativity at work with the dilemma facing Nolan and Jon sets Fly Paper apart from other heist novels of the paperback original era.

Fly Paper is also unquestionably the best of the first three Nolan novels. The inclusion of Jon as a sidekick gives the book its own identity rather than just being a cover song from a Richard Stark Tribute Band. The skyjacking storyline was brilliant, and everything about his slim paperback leaves the reader wanting more. Highest recommendation.

I would take slight issue with this review only in that it describes the Nolan series as a “pastiche” of Westlake’s Parker series. I usually describe it as an homage, but Westlake himself said that the series was distinct from its inspiration by the inclusion of the surrogate father-and-son relationship of Nolan and Jon, which humanizes Nolan in a way Parker never approached (nor wanted to).

The review got me to thinking, though. The first Nolan and Jon novel, Bait Money, was designed as a one-shot and really was me trying out everything I had learned from the Parker novels – not just the heist artist aspect, but the strict Point of View approach. As some of you already know, my original version of Bait Money had Nolan dying at the end. My then-agent Knox Burger, who had always disliked that ending, encouraged me to do a different ending in which Jon came back and rescued Nolan. After the original version got six or seven rejections, the new version sold first time out.

The second Nolan novel, Blood Money, was a direct sequel to Bait Money, really the second half of the first story. The two novels have been reprinted in the single volume, Two for the Money, by Hard Case Crime.

So in a very real way, Fly Paper was my first shot at doing a Nolan novel in a series format. I would always leave dangling aspects to be picked up in later novels; but this was nonetheless a self-contained series entry. More would follow.

Don Westlake and I made several appearances together, notably at Mohunk Lodge mystery weekends (see Nice Weekend for a Murder), where in my speech to the assembled fans/mystery gamers I shared the fact that Don referred to me as the Jayne Mansfield to his Marilyn Monroe, and I corrected him, saying I was the Mamie Van Doren. I remember seeing him laughing his generous laugh in the audience upon hearing that.

Don is a friend who is gone, however vividly he lives in my memory. Mickey Spillane is gone, too, of course, though he is with me every day. So many writers I’ve known and read and liked, who I’ve gotten to know personally, are gone now – one of the aspects of being 75 that never occurred to me till I got here.

On Memorial Day I reflect on my Dad, who served in the Navy as described in USS Powderkeg, and my Uncle Mahlon and Barb’s dad Bill Mull, who both endured horrific combat and came home with memories that must have been a burden.

It’s risky for me to do this, but as I write this Update on Memorial Day, friends who have passed seem to be looking over my shoulder. I will cite some, but not all of them. A good number were in either of my two bands, the Daybreakers and Crusin’ (or both), starting back around ‘65.

Paul Thomas was my chief musical collaborator for decades in both the Daybreakers and Crusin’. He came in as a tech wizard who ran sound, developed into a fine bass player and later was our lead guitarist. He was funny as hell and it’s a rare day when I don’t think of him.

Others of my bandmates have passed and yet remain vivid in my mind. Bruce Peters, the troubled genius who was the best showman, the finest guitar player, the most incredible songwriter, and the single funniest human being I ever knew. I quote him regularly.

Terry Beckey was a great singer and bass player and also very, very funny – murdered, goddamnit, on the road. Like Paul Thomas, he came into the Daybreakers as the sound man and worked his way up to front man.

Chuck Bunn was our first real bass player, a guy who didn’t hold grudges, he cherished them. But no one was ever a better band member, putting together lighting systems and other gizmos for us in his spare time – he lived for the band. He died shortly after this appearance at Bouchercon.

Brian Van Winkle came in as the brother of our then guitar player Jim after Chuck passed. He developed into a fine bassist and performer, and was incredibly fun to be around. Like so many of my bandmates, he had a wonderful if unprintable sense of humor. He also was the gentlest and sweetest member either band ever had. He appeared with us at the Indication Concert at the Iowa Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame in 2018.

Most of my best friends – maybe all of them – have been creative collaborators. People like Phil Dingeldein, who is alive and well. But some of our film collaborators are already gone, like Steve Henke, the skinny, cranky pro who kept us honest. Steve was my chief collaborator on Caveman: V.T. Hamlin and Alley Oop.

Probably the loss among my Film Family felt most deeply is Mike Cornelison, the actor who guided me through all of my indie projects. Mike appeared in Mommy, Mommy’s Day, Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market, and of course Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life. He also took the leads in four short films of mine and was the narrator of both Caveman and Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane. He played Pat Chambers in both of Stacy Keach’s audio productions of my scripts, The Little Death and Encore for Murder.

Mike had spent almost a decade in Los Angeles appearing on top TV shows and movies as well as starring in a trio of pilot films. He was knowledgeable in ways that turned me from a rank amateur into, well, an amateur who knows a little about what he’s doing.

On the Mommy movies, when Mike wasn’t working as an actor, he was my right-hand man, whispering in my ear when I got something wrong or needed to be doing something. He was also a pop culture expert and our conversations in that area were more fun than should be legal.

These are the friendly ghosts who walk with me through the remainder of my Act Three.

* * *

The Dave Thomas/Max Allan Collins episode of Gilbert Gottfried’s Amazing Colossal Podcast got rerun recently, and has generated some nice buzz for our novel The Many Lives of Jimmy Leighton (have you read it yet?). And let’s raise a glass to Gilbert, as well, gone way too soon.

M.A.C.

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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.

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