Thomas Pluck's Blog, page 75
September 24, 2011
Review: Crimespree Magazine #43 Jul/Aug
Crimespree Magazine #43 Jul/Aug by Scott Phillips
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Excellent issue of THE crime fan magazine. The interview with Sara Gran by Scott Phillips is entertaining and enjoyable; not a puff piece for her new novel, but an interesting discussion of influences and how to dodge Chandler's long shadow when writing a detective story. Declan Burke and Dennis Lehane discuss Irish crime writing on both sides of the pond, and you get three stories- a thriller, a dark bit of noir, and my story "Rain Dog," which I'll call urban noir, which flash fiction master Marcus Speh said "brought a tear to his eye."
Crimespree takes its job seriously but keeps things fun, and as always reports on the latest books, films and crime television with capsule reviews. And in this issue you get some true crime with Criminal Idiots, a funny collection of crook failures.
View all my reviews
September 23, 2011
My Dark Pages at Dead End Follies
Benoit Lelievre runs a great blog called Dead End Follies, where he reviews crime fiction, books in general, movies music and other media. He's a fine writer himself as well. He asked me a few weeks ago to participate in something new he's doing called My Dark Pages, where crime writers discuss what books brought them to the genre. I break the series's cherry, so go give it a read and leave a comment so Ben knows it's not all for naught, and that he has a voice, and god dammit, his life has value...
If you're a crime writer, bust his French-Canadian balls to get a spot, he's quite an essayist and his blog is going places. It's a great idea for a blog series, maybe he'll do a podcast of it someday.
Thomas Pluck's MY DARK PAGES
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
If you're a crime writer, bust his French-Canadian balls to get a spot, he's quite an essayist and his blog is going places. It's a great idea for a blog series, maybe he'll do a podcast of it someday.
Thomas Pluck's MY DARK PAGES
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
Three Sentences for Chuck W
Chuck Wendig the Pen Monkey has issued a three sentence story challenge on his blog. He offers up excellent writing advice free of charge. It is also collected and expanded for a Kindle-pittance, so if you want the funniest yet helpful writing on writing out there, pick up his Pen Monkey e-books.
My entry:
I Love You Period
He laughed after he'd put a perfect crimson period in the forehead of my wife with his comically small pistol, beat me with it before fleeing with her purse.
I hunted the man who stole my heart, my life, for so long I thought the second bullet hole, in his neck, would be the final punctuation mark in one long run on sentence of justice crossing rivers, borders and highways.
The sentence has only begun, with twenty years of rape and beatings inside this animal prison making me wish I'd put one final bloody red dot in my own temple, and found closure with an ellipsis.
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
September 22, 2011
Review: Choke Hold
Choke Hold by Christa Faust
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
You look at the cover and you see a sexy woman, a pretty face. You make judgments as to the depths of character. And you're wrong, because this girl has heart that pounds harder than a prizefighter's. I jumped into Angel Dare's story in the second entry, and you can easily follow her violent past if you haven't yet read Money Shot, the first one. Angel has done terrible things in the name of justice, and none of it has been clean. It's left her a wounded animal tracked by vicious predators. She's hiding out under a grease stain in the desert waiting tables when she meets an old friend, and gets thrown into a new kind of hell as he brings his son Cody and plenty of trouble with him. A mixed martial arts fighter tangled up in steroid trafficking, young Cody leads her to Hank, a veteran fighter who's broken inside and out, trying to make right for past wrongs.
It flies like classic pulp, it reads like truth and it hits you with a smart left hook that leaves you as stunned as a fighter wobbling through his first standing eight-count. There are no slick twists, only artfully written characters, broken down gladiators from the sex and violence trades who've battled for our entertainment. They are writ large but speak to a deeper truth. Angel's battle is far from over, and she faces the brutal ugly heart behind the sex and fights we watch for our amusement. Except her heart's stronger, just strong enough to keep on pumping as she's hunted down and forced to pay for the revenge she enacted.
Like Andrew Vachss, Faust lures you in with a great story and before she tells you secrets you don't want to hear. The end left me drained like I'd fought five hard rounds with Hank the Hammer. It's a hell of a book and you'll never look at mixed martial arts the same way again.
View all my reviews
September 21, 2011
Harlan responds... again!
Don't write him? Methinks Mr. Ellison doth protest too much...
I mentioned my 25-year old letter on his website Ellison Webderland in the guestbook, and Harlan Ellison graciously responds yet again. He likes the name of my website, even. He wouldn't be sarcastic, would he? He even mentions a blog post where I compared his novella Mefisto in Onyx to the 90's Denzel Washington supernatural thriller Fallen, which has a very similar premise:
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
I mentioned my 25-year old letter on his website Ellison Webderland in the guestbook, and Harlan Ellison graciously responds yet again. He likes the name of my website, even. He wouldn't be sarcastic, would he? He even mentions a blog post where I compared his novella Mefisto in Onyx to the 90's Denzel Washington supernatural thriller Fallen, which has a very similar premise:
HARLAN ELLISON- Sunday, August 28 2011 20:44:43THOMAS PLUCK
So Tom Pluck is this guy who wrote me a lettter that I answered politely (yet snarkily) back in '82 or something like that; and today I see Jan's post about Mr. Pluck's site (the title of which "And Pluck You, too!" I think is admirable, simply admirable) and it's a nice piece, but at the end it also says:
If you liked the preceding, you will also like...
And there's something called
FALLEN vs. Ellison's MEFISTO IN ONYX.
So. If anyone gets to Pluck, would you ask him to drop over here and kindly tell me:
What the pluck is "Fallen Vs. Ellison's MEFISTO IN ONYX" since I know the latter, but have no idea how it cohabits with the former.
Yr. Pal, Harlan
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
September 20, 2011
The Big Con
Two good friends lured and cajoled me into going to Bouchercon this year. Sabrina Ogden of My Friends Call Me Kate, and Josh Stallings, author of the Mo McGuire series. I met a lot of great people there, but I want to thank Josh for sharing his room and Sabrina for kicking me in the butt. It was a great time. Writers and readers of crime and mystery fiction, this is your Disney World.
The awesome Sabrina Ogden and my brother from another mother, Josh Stallings.
I solidified friendships I made online, and made some new ones. I apologize, I'm not much of a photo snapper. I prefer chit chat, and don't need to immortalize it with a picture. I met a lot of people, and everyone from regular folks to icons in the fiction world such as Harlan Coben and Daniel Woodrell were friendly and made time to talk with a total stranger. I shook Mr. Coben's hand after losing a charity auction to him. If I had to lose, I'm glad it was to a fellow Jersey boy, and the writer of Tell No One, still one of the best thrillers I've ever read.
I met a whole lot of people in various states of sleep deprivation and Guinness-infused excitement, so forgive me if I forget your names. It is not intentional. I flew in on three hours sleep and it took a few pints of liquid courage to approach my heroes, and the downside of that fortitude boost is the dilution of memory. Neliza Drew and Leah rounded out Sabrina's posse and made fine company. We made a trip to the St. Louis Arch with Josh, and it felt like I was on a walk with an old friend as Josh and I shot the shit, and smelled a lot of it from horse and carriages, and port-a-potties burned to ashes.
The con was a blur. I saw panels with Hilary Davidson, whose infectious enthusiasm was a shot of much-needed espresso. She won best first novel in the Crimespree awards, a much deserved win for The Damage Done. I briefly met Megan Abbott, author of The End of Everything, and was tickled when she tweeted that she was sorry we didn't get to talk more. If you haven't read her work, pick up the L.A. Noire e-book; she has the first story and it will knock you for a loop. Noir at its finest, among a collection of heavyweights, including Duane Swierczynski, who I told to go to hell. His novel Fun & Games, a wild pulp ride through Hollywood conspiracies, won novel of the year. Read it before they make it a movie with Tom Cruise as Charlie Hardy! It's a blast.
Jimmy Callaway and Glenn Gray. The deal goes down.
There was a rotating gang of kick-ass writers who strode from Irish pub to BBQ joint to Louisiana style raw bar. Joe Myers, Ron Earl Phillips, Keith Rawson, Kent Gowran, Glenn G. Gray, Frank Bill, Eric Beetner, Chris F. Holm, Johnny Shaw, Matt C. Funk, Daniel B. O'Shea, Chad Rohrbacher, Patti Abbott, Peter Andrew Leonard, Jimmy Callaway, Peter Farris, Cameron Ashley... the faces flash through my head like I ran the gauntlet at initiation, but instead of hooks and kidney punches I was pounded with enjoyable banter and good cheer.
I saved John Connolly from a crazed fan-girl with a phone camera. I accosted Jason Pinter. I escorted Christa Faust to the ballroom, where Max Allan Collins played rock 'n roll. And I learned the extent of Joelle Charbonneau's grace when I bumbled through introductions, and she kindly spoke with the strange man she only knew from Twitter. I met Daniel Woodrell and Scott Phillips, and debated the high and low points of the film ouerve of Dolph Lundgren long into the evening with Johnny Shaw and Christa Faust. Christa and I ended up talking every time we met. I'm reading her novel Choke Hold right now, and if you want a pulp noir trip through the dirty truth of Mixed Martial Arts, from underground fights to the pros, given by a sharp tour guide... look no further. It's the real deal and I'm plowing through it faster than one of Angel Dare's former colleagues would during the final scenes of her movies.
Kick-Ass Christa Faust and my stoic demeanor.
Panels and panels upon panels. Entertaining and educational. Found some new-to-me authors to read like Tom Schreck, a boxer who writes the Duffy Donbrowski series. Those sound right up my alley. I grabbed a copy of Crimespree #43, with the beautiful and talented Sara Gran on the cover, and my story "Rain Dog." I felt like a knight among royalty. Glenn Gray talked about a Noir at the Bar New York, something long overdue that I will gladly assist in any way, if help is needed.
Yes that is a big red salami and it felt good in my mouth.
I had the best ribs I've ever tasted at Pappy's Smokehouse. Tender, fall off the bone but still meaty. The best sweet potato fries, too. A little brown sugar and they were heaven. A group of us led by Matt Funk descended on the place like cannibals and commandeered two picnic tables, groaning in gastronomic delight as we gnawed short pig.
But all such Saturnalia must come to an end. I shuffled to the Metro with my bag heavy with books. Treasuring most the copy of Out There Bad that Josh inscribed to me, a book daring enough to grab you by the scruff of the neck and show you the ugliness we ignore every day. A book I'd be proud to write as my last, and it's his second. Thanks again for everything, Josh. Most of all your friendship.
But honestly, thanks to everybody. It's refreshing to go to a gathering of writers where the egos are checked at the door. Where you don't just rub elbows with the legends but clink beer mugs and share stories. I know I missed meeting a lot of people- Brad Parks, fellow Nutley denizen who asked me to smuggle a Jersey pizza. Well Brad, next time you return to Nutley a Michael's margerita pie is on me. I missed noir poet Gerald So, who just started the crime poetry site the 5-2. He's doing new things with the genre, check him out. Todd Ritter, so many others. And because of my refusal to wear glasses and the small surnames on the name tags, I'm sure a lot of people saw a big hairy ape squinting at them and thought who the hell is this guy and do I still have my wallet?
Thanks especially to the Crimespree crew for running an amazing convention, and for choosing to publish my story "Rain Dog."
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
The awesome Sabrina Ogden and my brother from another mother, Josh Stallings.
I solidified friendships I made online, and made some new ones. I apologize, I'm not much of a photo snapper. I prefer chit chat, and don't need to immortalize it with a picture. I met a lot of people, and everyone from regular folks to icons in the fiction world such as Harlan Coben and Daniel Woodrell were friendly and made time to talk with a total stranger. I shook Mr. Coben's hand after losing a charity auction to him. If I had to lose, I'm glad it was to a fellow Jersey boy, and the writer of Tell No One, still one of the best thrillers I've ever read.
I met a whole lot of people in various states of sleep deprivation and Guinness-infused excitement, so forgive me if I forget your names. It is not intentional. I flew in on three hours sleep and it took a few pints of liquid courage to approach my heroes, and the downside of that fortitude boost is the dilution of memory. Neliza Drew and Leah rounded out Sabrina's posse and made fine company. We made a trip to the St. Louis Arch with Josh, and it felt like I was on a walk with an old friend as Josh and I shot the shit, and smelled a lot of it from horse and carriages, and port-a-potties burned to ashes.
The con was a blur. I saw panels with Hilary Davidson, whose infectious enthusiasm was a shot of much-needed espresso. She won best first novel in the Crimespree awards, a much deserved win for The Damage Done. I briefly met Megan Abbott, author of The End of Everything, and was tickled when she tweeted that she was sorry we didn't get to talk more. If you haven't read her work, pick up the L.A. Noire e-book; she has the first story and it will knock you for a loop. Noir at its finest, among a collection of heavyweights, including Duane Swierczynski, who I told to go to hell. His novel Fun & Games, a wild pulp ride through Hollywood conspiracies, won novel of the year. Read it before they make it a movie with Tom Cruise as Charlie Hardy! It's a blast.
Jimmy Callaway and Glenn Gray. The deal goes down.
There was a rotating gang of kick-ass writers who strode from Irish pub to BBQ joint to Louisiana style raw bar. Joe Myers, Ron Earl Phillips, Keith Rawson, Kent Gowran, Glenn G. Gray, Frank Bill, Eric Beetner, Chris F. Holm, Johnny Shaw, Matt C. Funk, Daniel B. O'Shea, Chad Rohrbacher, Patti Abbott, Peter Andrew Leonard, Jimmy Callaway, Peter Farris, Cameron Ashley... the faces flash through my head like I ran the gauntlet at initiation, but instead of hooks and kidney punches I was pounded with enjoyable banter and good cheer.
I saved John Connolly from a crazed fan-girl with a phone camera. I accosted Jason Pinter. I escorted Christa Faust to the ballroom, where Max Allan Collins played rock 'n roll. And I learned the extent of Joelle Charbonneau's grace when I bumbled through introductions, and she kindly spoke with the strange man she only knew from Twitter. I met Daniel Woodrell and Scott Phillips, and debated the high and low points of the film ouerve of Dolph Lundgren long into the evening with Johnny Shaw and Christa Faust. Christa and I ended up talking every time we met. I'm reading her novel Choke Hold right now, and if you want a pulp noir trip through the dirty truth of Mixed Martial Arts, from underground fights to the pros, given by a sharp tour guide... look no further. It's the real deal and I'm plowing through it faster than one of Angel Dare's former colleagues would during the final scenes of her movies.
Kick-Ass Christa Faust and my stoic demeanor.
Panels and panels upon panels. Entertaining and educational. Found some new-to-me authors to read like Tom Schreck, a boxer who writes the Duffy Donbrowski series. Those sound right up my alley. I grabbed a copy of Crimespree #43, with the beautiful and talented Sara Gran on the cover, and my story "Rain Dog." I felt like a knight among royalty. Glenn Gray talked about a Noir at the Bar New York, something long overdue that I will gladly assist in any way, if help is needed.
Yes that is a big red salami and it felt good in my mouth.
I had the best ribs I've ever tasted at Pappy's Smokehouse. Tender, fall off the bone but still meaty. The best sweet potato fries, too. A little brown sugar and they were heaven. A group of us led by Matt Funk descended on the place like cannibals and commandeered two picnic tables, groaning in gastronomic delight as we gnawed short pig.
But all such Saturnalia must come to an end. I shuffled to the Metro with my bag heavy with books. Treasuring most the copy of Out There Bad that Josh inscribed to me, a book daring enough to grab you by the scruff of the neck and show you the ugliness we ignore every day. A book I'd be proud to write as my last, and it's his second. Thanks again for everything, Josh. Most of all your friendship.
But honestly, thanks to everybody. It's refreshing to go to a gathering of writers where the egos are checked at the door. Where you don't just rub elbows with the legends but clink beer mugs and share stories. I know I missed meeting a lot of people- Brad Parks, fellow Nutley denizen who asked me to smuggle a Jersey pizza. Well Brad, next time you return to Nutley a Michael's margerita pie is on me. I missed noir poet Gerald So, who just started the crime poetry site the 5-2. He's doing new things with the genre, check him out. Todd Ritter, so many others. And because of my refusal to wear glasses and the small surnames on the name tags, I'm sure a lot of people saw a big hairy ape squinting at them and thought who the hell is this guy and do I still have my wallet?
Thanks especially to the Crimespree crew for running an amazing convention, and for choosing to publish my story "Rain Dog."
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
September 17, 2011
September 13, 2011
Review: Noir at the Bar
Noir at the Bar by Richard Thomas
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Great crime stories by authors I knew and many I didn't. You get classics like "Thin Mints" by Daniel B. O'Shea and "Deviances" by Frank Bill, and crazy stuff like "Vampires are Pussies" by Chris La Tray. Gave me some new writers to follow like Jonathan Woods. And it all supports a local St. Louis independent bookstore, Subterranean Books. You'll gave to go to their store or website to get it, but you won't regret it. Not a bad story in the book, and some great ones.
View all my reviews
September 11, 2011
Crimespree #43 on Kindle and Nook
The issue of Crimespree with my story "Rain Dog" - as well as articles by Scott Phillips, Declan Burke, Dennis Lehane, Todd Ritter, interviews with Sara Gran and much more, is now available on Kindle and Nook for $3.99
This is the debut of Denny Forrest, a 6'5" three hundred fifty pound rhino of vengeance. He will appear again in Pulp Modern #1 and Plots With Guns, and a novel in the near future.
Nook Version
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
This is the debut of Denny Forrest, a 6'5" three hundred fifty pound rhino of vengeance. He will appear again in Pulp Modern #1 and Plots With Guns, and a novel in the near future.
Nook Version
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
September 10, 2011
WTC 1995
Unsure who the kid with the afro is....
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
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