CrimeConn: The End of the World as We Knew It will run all day June 4 at the Ferguson Library in Stamford, Connecticut, with Tess Gerritsen as keynote speaker. Your key links: The full program Register to attend in person Register to attend online via Zoom
My reading habit was mostly self-inflicted, though heavily influenced by my father’s collection of boyhood books, notably the works of Edgar Rice Boroughs, Zane Grey, Tom Swift and lots of other popular action writers of the early 20th century now lost in obscurity. But the mystery addiction is all my mother’s fault. She didn’t know the term, but she was
Tired of gritty, violent cop shows? Had enough of today’s most heinous crimes retold in thinly disguised fiction? Need a show with wit and style? Want to escape back to a more genteel time? If you haven’t discovered this polished gem, it’s not too late to get in on the action. At first glance, Murdoch Mysteries might appear British, but,
Recently, and for no particular reason, I tried to remember the first crime or mystery book I ever read. Since I am a woman of a certain age, it was, of course, a Nancy Drew book. I couldn’t recall which book, but I did remember my childhood thrill at being on a dark and stormy adventure with the girl sleuth.
Patrick Modiano’s Missing Person focuses on a private detective, introduced as Guy Roland, who investigates himself. The location is Paris, the time period, the mid-1960s. I say “introduced as Guy Roland,” because from page one of this novel, we comprehend that we are dealing with a detective narrator with little sense of his own identity. “I am nothing,” is how the book starts. “Nothing but
Some writers keep drawing you back to them. Among crime writers, one who does this to me is Ross Macdonald. I first read him when I was 13 – the novel was The Goodbye Look, a Lew Archer mystery from 1969. At the time I read it, the mid-’70s, the book was contemporary, and I remember the enjoyment I felt reading
In the late 1960s, Boris and Arkady Strugatsky, the most popular science fiction writers in Russia, decided to write a mystery novel. The Dead Mountaineer’s Inn was published in 1970, and its creation may have been motivated in part by the weariness they felt struggling with the Soviet authorities. Once writers of optimistic science fiction that the authorities backed, they had changed with
Loneliness and frustration We both came down with an acute case When the lights came up at two I caught a glimpse of you And your face looked like something Death brought with him in his suitcase —Warren Zevon, “The French Inhaler” I don’t exactly know why I took Kevin Avery and Jeff Wong’s It’s All One Case: The Illustrated
David Mamet once observed that writers are obsessed with office supply stores. The things these stores contain — pens, pencils, inks, paper — are the only visible proof of what we do. I thought of Mamet’s remark after seeing California Typewriter, a fascinating new documentary about the titular shop in Berkeley, California. Computers may rule the day (these words are
If there’s a crime movie I would enjoy more than the 1974 version of Murder on the Orient Express, based on the 1934 novel of the same name by the inimitable Agatha Christie, I haven’t found it yet. I’ve seen the movie — starring Albert Finney as the Belgian detective Hercule Poirot — a number of times. And even though
