Criminal Minds

 Well, it’s “bloggers choice” week here and to avoid the pitfalls of wallowing in my own fears and insecurities over book sales (as I approach a new release at the end of Feb) I wanted to talk about old books. As writers, we’re readers, and to ignite the flame of inspiration as I head into any new project, and the renew my love fo the craft strictly from a readers perspective, I think long and hard about what I’m going to read next. 

I read quite a bit of work published in the mid-1900s. Classic crime fiction, noir novels, some PI stuff. There’s something about that era that scratches my particular itch.

Sure, you have to get over some very outdated and off-putting social attitudes, but these are usually minor and on the sidelines. The real thing I love about them is that they get to it, sprint along with the story and don’t let up. 

These were books written for drug store spinner racks. Paperbacks sold for a quarter and rarely running over 200 pages that’ll fit right into your back pocket. 

In many ways, it reminds me how little our genre has changed over the years. Most of the same basic elements are there. There is less social commentary, less inner monologue. You could say many of them aren’t very deep. But that wasn’t the point.

If I run into a dry spell with reading current novels and I need to hit the reset, I always reach back to my shelf for one of the hundreds of vintage crime novels waiting for me. I have old pulp paperback I bought for no other reason than the cover was lurid and enticing. I have several titles still to read from favorite classic authors like Gil Brewer, Day Keene, James Hadley Chase and Harry Whittington.

My favorites are often the little discoveries. Sure we all know Chandler and Hammett, but how many have read Fools’ Gold by Dolores Hitchins? Do Evil In Return by Margaret Millar? The Jones Men by Vern Smith? You’ll Get Yours by Thomas Wills?

When you discover a hidden gem it feels special. These days you can also find collectors and like-minded fans to share these new discoveries and get deeper recommendations. 

Now, let’s be clear, there is a fair amount of dreck out there from that era. These were, by and large, written by men tapping out a furious word count in order to put food on the table and beer in the fridge and – talk about how little things have changed – making a living as a pulp hack was no picnic. Many are formulaic. Many are trying to imitate best sellers like Mickey Spillane or Raymond Chandler. Many are just lazy, written in a drunker stupor or short on a decent mystery.

But when you find the authors you love, a dip into the mid-century is a great peek into a world just different enough from our own. I know when I go back and grab a Lionel White or a Charles Williams novel off my shelf, I’m in for something entertaining at the very least. I know a Chester Himes novel is going to go off into some crazy tangents. I know William McGivern or W.R Burnett or Jim Thompson are going to do anything they can to throw me a plot point I never saw coming.

So I’ll continue to reach back across the decades for a read that might be old, but is new to me. I’ll continue to study the history of my chosen genre. I’ll continue to seek out the all-too rare female authors of the time or the even more rare African American writers. All this wonderful discovery reignites my love for the genre and reminds me why I love it.