Lawrence Block

Joe Marlin goes by many fake names and pulls just about any grift, from theft to skipping out on hotel bills to conning wealthy women and gigolo work. Escaping his latest con in Philly, he heads to Atlantic City to see what he can get away with there. First thing, he steals expensive luggage in the hopes that it has cash, or at least some clothes in his size, but is startled to find an enormous amount of heroin inside. Joe doesn't have a drug connection anymore but it's too valuable to throw show more away, so he begins hatching a plan for how it can make him money. In the meantime, he's also surprised to find that he's fallen in love with a blonde he meets on the beach, one who is unhappily married to a very rich older man.
As much pulp as a glass of orange juice. Joe is a scoundrel who you almost root for as he turns each action around to look at it from every angle. This was Block's first published novel, originally titled "Mona". show less

Haven't read these in years, but they hold up. Just enjoyable nonsense, but smart and funny nonsense rather than the drivel I see sometimes masquerading as light mystery. This one introduces Barnegat Books and his new bestie Carolyn. Bernie steals a rare work by Kipling for a client, but then things go sideways and he ends up accused of murder. Naturally, Mrs. Rhodenbarr's son Bernie sorts through the crowd of suspects (and motives) and comes out mostly unscathed in the end. Don't think too show more hard. Just go with it for a fun time and a quick read. show less

"A Drop of the Hard Stuff" is the most effective anti-AA book I have ever read.

If the life of our protagonist (Matthew Scudder) is to act as a distillation of the lives of all Alcoholics Anonymous members, then each has traded black-outs, embarrassment, humiliation, and early death for a life of unremitting gray-fleeced sameness, total loss of affect, and any capacity for joy. I strongly suspect that is not the case, and this well written account of a totally boring chronic coffee drinker is show more simply a remarkably wearisome read.

This man lives in a hotel room, has no job, has no outside interests (beyond drinking coffee and fretting about not drinking alcohol), and has the social life of a ball bearing as he bounces slowly (without drinking) from one low key situation to another. Characters are quickly and skillfully sketched, and there are dozens of them. The keyword here is sketched. If one of these characters and I were sitting alone in a bar, I wouldn't recognized him – unless he offered to buy a cup of coffee and started fretting about being in a bar and how he would have to tell everyone at the midnight meeting in the basement of St. Stanislaus of the Holy Singlet (at the corner of 5th and Impetigo) about how he overcame this challenge. Furthermore, almost none of these overabundant characters have much of anything to do with the plot, such as it is.

To give an abbreviated prècis: A guy from AA gets killed. Nobody knows why and nobody cares. One of the multitude with whom Scudder drinks coffee does eventually, sort of, admit to being the guilty party. Still no one cares, including Scudder. Including me.

Gosh almighty folks, this was tedious. A sample paragraph (beginning of Chapter XII):

“I stopped at one of the new places a block before the subway entrance. It was a luncheonette, and I took a stool at the counter and ordered a café con leche. They used evaporated milk from a can, and it was sweet and not bad, but I didn't like it enough to order again.”

And that was a high point of the action.

I've read two others of Brock's books (in other series) and enjoyed them as decent reads. He's prolific as all get out, and his publisher and mother must like him. But not I. The next time I see a Scudder novel on the shelves, I'll make the sign of the cross, avert my gaze, and move quickly away. show less

Short story collections, even by the best authors, can range from crap to greatness. Sometimes, such collections are ego-driven collections of stuff no one would ever publish. Sometimes they are collections of an author's early work. Once in a while, a well-known author actually publishes a collection of short stories that is the literary equivalent of hitting it out of the ballpark. With Catch and Release, Lawrence Block's latest short story collection, published in 2013, he has, indeed, show more launched a ball so high, so far, so deep, that I can fully recommend it for your reading enjoyment.

Catch And Release is, of course, the title story for this volume and, as such, is worthy of a review entirely of its own. Jim Morrison once explained that, The hitchhiker stood by the side of the road and leveled his thumb in the calm, cool, calculus of reason. This book about the joys of hitchhiking and the joys of flyfishing is just terrific. It is told in such a routine, matter-of-fact yarn-spinning manner that it almost deceptive in the twisted sickness found in the narrator himself. He is a loner who likes to pick up hitchhikers, especially young, cute hitchhikers in short cut-offs and scooping tops. He does offer sage advice to the young lady he drops off at her parents' home, explaining that he is a catch-and-release fisherman, but not everybody is a catch- and-release fisherman. She has no clue what he is talking about, but any reader of dark mysteries and noir literature does. Sometimes a fish is allowed to wriggle off the line and flop back into the water. Often, they do not know how lucky they are.

Clean Slate is a lengthy novella-type story from the Kit Tolliver collection. Block also offers it separately as a single. If you like this (and warning: not everyone will), I suggest you run out and grab whatever copy is remaining of "Getting Off," Block's full-length book featuring all of his Kit Tolliver stories. I highly recommend it. "Clean Slate" offers a real peek at Kit Tolliver's background and gives the reader an understanding of how she set out on her path, criss-crossing America and donning different identities in different cities. Kit is a knockout. She has a list and, yes, she is checking it twice. She has a list of men who could sit around a campfire and brag about how they had her. She is going to do something about that list, something about whittling that list down. Kit is no angel. She engages in all kinds of conduct, not all of which is legal. Somehow, Block has crafted this story which includes all kinds of violence and matricide and identity theft and makes the reader want to follow along.

I found all of these to be top-notch stories with a special mention going out to Speaking of Greed and Speaking of Lust, bawdy tales of sex, violence, avarice, love, and betrayal, told by a doctor, a policeman, a priest, and an elderly man while sitting around after a poker game.

WARNING: this collection is for mature audiences only as it contains sexual situations, violence, cruelty, and cuss words.

Do I need to conclude by explaining that I think this is a fantastic, mind-blowingly good collection that it is well worth your time. Scratch under the surface of our society and it is not all clean and neat and ordered. This is greed, lust, larceny, and revenge percolating out there. I can't say enough good things about this collection. Enjoy! show less