GreggHurwitzWeblog

Marvel One on One

2009-08-06T08:37:00.000-07:00

Here's an interview I did at Marvel headquarters on day three into my book tour (without sleep, so I look slightly...pasty). My favorite thing about comics and Marvel is the energy and enthusiasm - it's 99% about the creative process over there. It was cool to discuss Moon Knight, which'll be my first monthly book, as well as approach Trust No One from a slightly different angle.

Punisher Contest

2009-07-27T12:31:00.000-07:00

Email gregghurwitzbooks@gmail.com the page number of the first Punisher reference in Trust No One for a shot to win a signed, personalized copy of Wolverine #1: The Death Song of J. Patrick Smitty - the first comic I ever wrote.

Antiheroes

2009-07-15T17:15:00.000-07:00

Check out this killer article by David Treuer on antiheroes. Who's your favorite antihero?

First Chapter of TRUST NO ONE

2009-07-13T13:15:00.000-07:00

Chapter 1

I snapped awake at 2:18 a.m., the bloodshot numerals staring at me from the nightstand. For years on end, I woke up at this exact time every night, regardless of what time zone I was in. But after seventeen years I had just started sleeping through the night. I had finally outrun the old fears. Or so I had convinced myself.

Remote sirens warbled in the night. At first I figured they were in my head, the sound track to the dream. But the distant wail got louder instead of fading. I hadn't awakened on my own.

I ran through what I remembered from the previous evening—the presidential debate had closed out prime time, and after the commentariat finished yammering, I'd fallen asleep watching a high-speed chase on the news. A guy in a beat-to-shit Jeep Cherokee, hauling ass down the 405, a legion of black-and-whites drawn behind him like a parachute.

I blinked hard, inhaled, and looked around. Same Lemon Pledge scent of my third-floor condo. My sweat imprint on the sheets and pillow. Breeze rattling palm fronds against my balcony in the next room.

And a watery blue light undulating across the bedroom ceiling.

I sat up.

The TV, across the room on the steamer trunk, was off. But the distant sirens continued.

And then, along with the light on the ceiling, the sirens abruptly stopped.

I threw off the sheets and padded across the carpet, stepping over a discarded Sports Illustrated and sloughed-off dress shirts from the job I'd left a week ago. In my plaid pajama bottoms, I ventured into the all-purpose living room, heading for the balcony. The police lights had flickered through the locked sliding glass door. Halfway to it I froze.

A thick black nylon rope was dangling from the lip of the roof, its end coiled on my balcony. Motionless.

No longer groggy, I opened the sliding glass door and stepped silently out onto the balcony, rolling the screen shut behind me. My balcony with its Brady Bunch orange tiles overlooked a narrow Santa Monica street populated by other generic apartment buildings. Streetlights were sporadic. I confronted the rope for a quiet moment, then looked around, expecting who knows what.

Bulky shadows of cars lined the gutters. An SUV was double-parked, blocking the street. No headlights, no dome light. Tinted windows. But a huff of smoke from the exhaust pipe. A sedan, dark and silent, wheeled around the turn and halted, idling behind the SUV.

Terror reached through seventeen years and set my nerves tingling.

I squinted to see if I could make out a police light bar mounted on either roof. In my peripheral vision, the tail of the rope twitched. The roof creaked. Before I had a chance to think, a spotlight blazed up from the SUV, blinding me. A zippering sound came from above, so piercing that my teeth vibrated. Then a dark form pendulumed down at me, two boots striking me in the chest. I left my feet, flying back through the screen, which ripped free almost soundlessly. I landed on my shoulder blades, hard, the wind knocked out of me. The blackclad figure, outfitted with a SWAT-like jumpsuit and an assault rifle, filled the screen frame with its bits of torn mesh. Even through the balaclava, the guy looked somehow sheepish—he hadn't seen me beneath the overhang before he'd jumped.

"Shit," he said. "Sorry."

He'd made an expert landing, despite the collision, and was aiming the rifle at my face.

I guppied silently, a knot of cramped muscles still holding my lungs captive, and rolled to my side. He stepped astride me as I curled around the hot pain in my chest.

A hammering of boots in the hall matched my heartbeat, so forceful it jarred my vision, and then the front door flew directly at me, knocked from the hinges and dead bolt as if a hurricane had hit the other side. It skipped on end, landed flat on the carpet with a whump, and slid to within an inch of my nose.

As I writhed between the assailant's boots, fear gave way to panic. Three men flipped me and proned me out, my face mashing carpet, my front tooth driving into my bottom lip. Gloved hands ran up my sides, checking my ankles, my crotch. More black-clad forms hurtled through the doorway, aiming assault rifles in all directions, a few men streaking off to the bedroom. I heard my folding closet doors slam back on their tracks, the shower curtain raked aside.

"Nick Horrigan? Are you Nick Horrigan?!"

My chest released, and I finally drew in a screeching breath. And another. I rolled onto my back, stared up at the one face not covered by a hood and goggles. Lean, serious features, a slender nose bent left from a break, gray hair shoved back from a side part. The salt-and-pepper stubble darkening the jaw matched neither the neat knot of the standard-issue red tie nor the high and tight haircut.

"Are you Nick Horrigan?"

I nodded, still fighting to draw in a proper breath. A warm, salty trickle ran from my split lip down my chin. The other men—fifteen of them?—had spread through the condo, dumping drawers, knifing open the couch cushions, overturning chairs. I heard flatware tumble onto the linoleum. My clock radio blared on—a jingle for antifungal ointment—and then I heard someone curse, and it abruptly cut off.

The gray-haired man frowned at me, then surveyed the others, radiating authority. "The hell's the matter with him, Sever?"

"I hit him in the chest when I rappelled from the roof." A faint southern accent—Maryland or Virginia, maybe. The guy tugged off his hood, revealing a square face further accented by a military-looking flattop. He was much wider than the boss man crouching over me. Younger, too—probably in his mid-forties, though his creased tan aged him up a bit. His bearing suggested he was the alpha dog among the jumpsuits.

The boss returned his gaze to me. "Nick Horrigan, born 6/12/73? Son of Agent Frank Durant?"

"Stepson," I managed.

He shoved a photograph in my face. A man shown from the chest up, wearing a blue blazer and the scowl of the unphotogenic. A wide mouth and slack lips lent him a slightly wild quality. His blond hair was slicked back, the camera catching furrows left by the comb.

"What's the last contact you had with this man?"

"I don't know this guy," I said.

"Then you've been in phone or e-mail contact with him."

I caught a worm's-eye view of a man with tactical goggles peering into the empty Cup o' Noodles I'd left on the kitchen counter. The photo moved abruptly in front of my nose again. "I told you," I said. "I don't know who the hell he is."

The boss grabbed my arms and tugged me to a sitting position. Over his shoulder I could see my framed Warner Bros. still, sitting shattered at the base of the wall. Yosemite Sam was looking back at me with an expression of matching bewilderment. Glancing down, I stared numbly at the boot-size red marks on my bare chest. "Who are you?" the man asked, pulling my focus back to him.

My voice still sounded tight. "You already know. I'm Nick Horrigan."

"No, I mean what do you do?"

"I just left a job at a charity group," I said.

One of the guys behind me guffawed.

Another appeared in the doorway of my bedroom, holding my now-empty nightstand drawer by the handle. "I got nothing."

The boss swiveled to face a guy wanding the kitchen with a magnetometer. The guy shook his head. "Sorry, Mr. Wydell."

"Okay." Wydell ran a hand through his gray hair. It fell back precisely into the side part. His exacting demeanor fit his professional bearing—the sole suit among rugged operators. "Okay. Get him a shirt."

A T-shirt flew from the vicinity of my bedroom, hitting me in the head.

"Put this on. Let's go."

My Pac-Man shirt. Great. I tugged it on, and two guys hoisted me to my feet. Figuring I'd want ID wherever I was going, I grabbed my money clip from the kitchen counter and stuffed it into the floppy pocket of my drawstring pajama pants.

"Let's go, let's go," Wydell said. "You got sneakers, something?"

I stopped moving, and the two men commanding me to the door stumbled into me. "Can you please show me a badge?" I said, though I pretty much figured.

Wydell's lips pinched. His hand darted behind his lapel, withdrew his commission book with its recessed badge. Hunched eagle and flag, rendered in gold. U.S. SECRET SERVICE. His commission was behind plastic inside the leather book. JOSEPH WYDELL, SPECIAL AGENT IN CHARGE. He was from the Los Angeles Regional Office, which meant he wasn't on the protection detail of a particular politician but oversaw general intelligence in Southern California. Why was the head of the Secret Service L.A. office on site at a raid instead of waiting back in his air-conditioned office?

"What do you think I did?" I asked.

Someone handed him my sneakers, and he thumped them against my chest. I took them. He hustled me out into the hall, Sever in front of us, another agent behind, one at each side. They held the diamond formation as we barreled toward the stairs.

Mrs. Plotkin stood in her doorway in a white spa bathrobe, her copper hair heaped high, showing off white roots. She looked worried—one of her favorite expressions.

"Get back in your apartment, ma'am," Sever said, the accent more pronounced now.

We were approaching fast, but she held her ground. "Where are you taking him?"

"I'm okay, Evelyn," I said, wiping blood from my chin.

"What did he do?"

"Out of the way, now."

We reached her, and Sever straight-armed her back into her apartment. Her head snapped forward, and the glasses she wore around her neck on a beaded chain flew up, trailing her fall like the tail of a kite. As we whisked past, I caught a flash of her lying shocked on her fuzzy rug, glasses tangled in her hair, the door pressing against her side. It was just a shove, nothing drastic, but even a portion of a man's strength applied brusquely to a woman in her sixties had a certain grotesqueness to it.

I tried to stop, but the agents propelled me forward. "Hey," I said to Sever's broad back, "let me at least make sure she's okay."

The agents kept moving me along. No time for retorts or even threats. That scared me even more.

I stumbled down the stairs, trying to keep pace, nearly dropping my sneakers. The lobby was empty save the vinyl couches and smoky mirrors, and beyond, the street was lit up like day. Police cars, spotlights, men in dark suits talking into their wrists. A few spectators, hastily dressed, stood on the opposite sidewalk, straining on tiptoes, waiting to see who would emerge.

We burst through the doors and stopped. I hopped on one foot, then the other, pulling on my Pumas.

"Cut the goddamned spotlights," Wydell said. "This isn't a fashion shoot." The spotlights clicked off with a bass echo, and suddenly the night was darker than it should have been. Wydell grabbed the arm of another agent. "Where is it?"

"Almost here."

"It needs to be here now."

I said, loudly, "Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on?"

All of a sudden, a bass thrumming filled the night, as much a vibration as a sound, and then a Steven Spielberg glow came over the rooftops, turning the palms a fiery yellow. On the sidewalk a little girl white-knuckled her father's hand, her mouth open in sleepy disbelief.

A Black Hawk loomed into view, massive and somehow futuristic in this context, on my street. The wind from the rotors buffeted the crowd, snapped at the bushes, pasted my clothes to me. Wydell's tie pulled clear of his jacket and stood on end. The helicopter banked and set down magisterially on the asphalt. The spectators stared at me in expectation.

Wydell grabbed my arm in a vise grip and started moving me toward the helicopter. The sight of that waiting Black Hawk finally broke me out of shock, or at least helped me catch up to myself, to what was happening. I jerked free. "Wait a minute. You can't just take me. What's happening here?"

I had to follow him closely to hear his words over the noise of the rotors.

He was shouting. "A terrorist has penetrated the nuclear power plant at San Onofre and is threatening to blow it up."

I felt a sudden hollowness at my core, that rushing emptiness I'd felt only twice before: clutching stupidly at Frank while he died and watching live footage as that second plane hit the tower.

"Okay," I said. "Jesus. But what's that got to do with me?"

Wydell stopped, poised, one leg up on the skid of the chopper. "He says he'll only talk to you."

The foregoing is excerpted from Trust No One by Gregg Hurwitz. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from St. Martin's Press, 175 5th Avenue NY, NY 10010.

Top Ten Thriller Research Misadventures

2009-07-11T10:58:00.000-07:00

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I’ve remarked from time to time that doing research for my books is my form of continuing education. But it’s the kind of education where you’ve already fulfilled all your core requirements and now you get to choose whichever electives you want. Ever been interested in Pop Art? Sure. How about speaking !Kung? No problem—there’s an eleven a.m. seminar–you can even sleep in. And after lunch, you can take that old standby, underwater basket weaving (I know it’s proverbial and all, but was it ever real? And for that matter, why introduce the water? Is it not accomplishment enough merely to weave baskets?).

But we digress.

The point is, one aspect of writing books that I love is that I get to chose any topic that’s ever interested me—no matter (especially?) how perverse and off the beaten path, and dive into it. Here’s my top ten hit list for some notable adventures I’ve had in pursuit of a plot twist.

10. I’m not a biker dude. I don’t have the facial hair for it (after the Don-Johnson phase, I get too itchy; I’ve been told that this complaint doesn’t go over well on one’s application to the Bandidos). But for Troubleshooter, I knew that if I were to create my own outlaw biker gang, I’d have to know what I was talking about. I flew to Miami to meet with one of the only guys who has gone undercover into outlaw gangs for a long spell (almost a decade) and lived. And in talking to him, it was evident how much he loved bikes. I realized I’d have to get on one of those things—not just a motorcycle, but a big ole Harley hog—to get the vibe down. So I had a buddy with proper licensure rent one for me (let’s just keep that little detail between you and I, shall we?) and wobbled my way around the block. After a few goes, I took to the open road, zipping along the biker runs in the Malibu canyons and hitting the biker stops that ultimately appear in the book.

9. Last Shot opens with a classic locked-room prison escape from Terminal Island. I had one of my deputy marshal buddies drive me down there so I could poke around the prison and plan my escape. But when we arrived, the place was on a security lockdown. So we snuck around the perimeter (at times, when we were feeling more precise, we even sneaked) with me jotting notes and poking sensors. It didn’t take long for security to pull up on us. I was glad one of us had a badge.

8. A bunch of my SEAL buddies were teaching a SWAT entry course out in the hills of Ontario (not that Ontario, the other one). And I’d wanted to get on semi-automatic weapons for a while. So they invited me out. I rolled up on the range and hopped out—there were two SEAL instructors dressed in jeans and skull T-shirts and about three hundred guys in full SWAT gear pointing their tactical goggles my direction. Needless to say, I felt put on the spot. So I got on an MP5 and my buddy had one of the SWAT guys show me the proper form, sighting, etc. And everyone was snickering at the poor guy until I finally asked what was up. They thought—because of my poor attire and disheveled appearance—that I was actually another SEAL who the instructors had brought in just to mess with the SWAT guys. So everyone thought that I was faking not knowing how to operate the weapon. Holding an MP5 and having hundreds of SWAT-geared men urging you—“Come on. Quit messin’ around. Just fire the thing already”—is the kind of peer-pressure one isn’t taught about in junior high school pamphlets.

7. Working on the Tim Rackley books, I became pretty close with the US Marshals Service crew in downtown LA. The deputies have been terrific, taking me to the range, on ride-alongs, introducing me to the Explosive Detection Canine Team (which, in my rough draft, I referred to as the Explosive Canine Team, which calls to mind lobbing exploding dogs at fugitives). I’d finished a long day of pestering everyone with various questions and we’d wound up down in the basement where some of the guys were practicing hand-to-hand combat. And one of the deputies (who was slightly and understandably chaffing at that point about my intrusion into his work day) asked if I would volunteer. Volunteer. Sure. It’s a learning experience, right? Let’s just say that I had a roommate in college who was 6’6”, 280, and a wrestler (an Ohio wrestler for those of you who know what that means). And when said roommate played let’s-make-Hurwitz-a-ragdoll, his facility at tying me into knots paled in comparison to the indignities visited upon me in that basement. By the end, it felt like a V.C. Andrews novel.

6. My second thriller, Minutes to Burn, takes place in Galápagos. And I had to get some very specific data about a species of praying mantis that is prevalent there (don’t ask—it beats underwater basket weaving). The esteemed Darwin Station located just outside of Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz was pretty much the only place that had what I needed. But access can be a bit tricky. So I became a visiting scientist for the day, talking my way into the place on fake credentials so I could pore over a few of their studies. Great fun and the easiest Ph.D. I ever didn’t earn.

5. For Do No Harm, I had to get into some nitty gritty cadaver details with a lab tech at the UCLA Medical Center. But the only time slot he had was—literally—as he was carving up a body, parting it out for various departments (“joints to Ortho, feet to Podiatry.”) So I stood there, notepad in hand, interrogating away as he lowered the Sawzall reciprocating blade again and again. I wish I’d worn different shoes.

4. I was trying to work up a particular explosion and despite numerous conversations with my consultant in demolition breaching, I was having trouble visualizing it. Finally, frustrated, he said, “I’m coming over.” He brought a few other SEALs, wedged me hidden in the back of his truck, and drove me onto a demolition range. At which he promptly blew up a car. “There,” he said, pointing. “See?”

3. In one of my screenplays, I have a scene that takes place in a stunt plane. Only problem: I’d never been in a stunt plane. Other problem: I’m not a bad flyer, but I wouldn’t exactly say I love flying. I have been known to grab an armrest from time to time during bouts of rough turbulence. So stunts planes were something I considered a little out of my area of interest. But I wanted to get the sensation down. So I hooked up with a friend of a friend and wound up on the tarmac at the Santa Monica Airport, listening to elaborate instructions for bailing out in case of emergency. (One thing you don’t like hearing pre-boarding? “Put one foot here and one foot there and then jump.”) Doing barrel rolls out over the Pacific, I have to say, was a brand of beauty greater than what I would have imagined.

2. For The Program, I did a great deal of research into mind control. It’s one of the most fascinating topics I’ve covered, and a perfect example of using books to explore something I’d always been darkly curious about. I read everything I could get my hands on—techniques used during wartime (technically brainwashing, not mind-control, but the same principles apply), talking to survivors, interviewing psychologists. But I got to a certain point where I realized that I had to experience all this first-hand. So I went undercover into mind-control cults. (People often ask, “How ever did you find a cult?” and those people inevitably live outside of Los Angeles). I participated in an eight-hour lock-in, and underwent some cult testing. Of everything I’ve done, it’s the only experience I had to pull back from in my fiction because if I wrote the personalities and techniques the way they really are, the suspension of disbelief would be too great.

1. With The Crime Writer, I had something of a shift in the tone of my books, from a more action tech-heavy approach to one geared primarily toward suspense. Taking a common experience or setting and turning it slightly on its head creates a different type of drama, anxiety, and paranoia, and that’s a direction I’ve been increasingly interested in heading. In keeping with my new approach, in Trust No One, there is a unique and bizarre restaurant that Nick Horrigan visits. I don’t want to say what makes it such a crazy culinary experience since that would give away too much, but I will say that my wife took me there and—like Nick—I had no idea what I was getting into. Until I was in. It was very fun and prodigiously cool, and I hope the reader has the same experience of surprise and excitement as I did when she enters the restaurant and prepares to dine.

Quotation of the Week

2009-07-06T11:15:00.000-07:00

"Personal problems are not literature."
--Cristovão Tezza

Robert Crais interview re: Trust No One

2009-06-29T06:13:00.001-07:00

Check out us chatting here.

The Daily Beast - and Tour Schedule

2009-06-24T08:52:00.001-07:00

First big review for Trust No One!

The kick-off party in LA last night was terrific. I'm heading off now to San Diego, NY, Boston, and the Bay Area. Hope to see some of you along the way.

Trust No One in stores today!

2009-06-23T08:51:00.001-07:00

Pop Culture Nerd

2009-06-22T10:47:00.001-07:00

I know. Sounds like me. But it's also a terrific website. I recently did an interview there about Trust No One.

Vengeance of the Moon Knight

2009-06-20T09:05:00.000-07:00

Marvel just announced that I'll be taking over Moon Knight. Terrific art by Jerome Opena - one of my favorites.

http://www.newsarama.com/comics/090620-heroes-moon-night.html

http://www.comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=21663

http://marvel.com/news/comicstories.8475.Heroes_Con_~apos~09~colon~_Vengeance_of_Moon_Knight

Check the covers by Alex Ross and Leinil Francis Yu (guess which is Ross and which Yu).

Huffington Post op ed piece

2009-06-19T09:02:00.000-07:00

Here's a piece I wrote for the Huffington Post on violence in the media.

The Call

2009-06-18T14:55:00.001-07:00

In Graphic Novel Reporter, I talk about the morning I got the phone call from Marvel about writing The Punisher.

Marvel Exclusive

2009-06-14T08:31:00.000-07:00

Marvel has just announced my comic-book exclusive with them, and I answered some questions about upcoming projects. Stay tuned for details!

Best Reader Email of All Time

2009-06-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

Subject line: DO NO HARM saves reader's dog

Dear Mr. Hurwitz:

I got into your books just recently, I enjoy them immensely, yadda yadda yadda.

Last night, I was spraying ointment onto my Old English Bulldog, Maggie, to remedy her irritated skin. A stray squirt hit Maggie in the eye, putting her in dire straits. Luckily, I am in the middle of reading "Do No Harm," so I knew exactly what to do. I immediately grabbed my water bottle that I use to wet my hair, and proceeded to squirt fresh water into her eye for the next two minutes. Her eye was back to 100% soon after, thanks to the fact that I just happen to be a fan of yours. Thank you for saving Maggie's eye. As soon as I find a job and get back out of the financial hole I'm in, purchasing your latest book will be the first thing I do.

Take care,
Scott Awtrey
Dallas, TX

"Back and Forth"

2009-06-08T14:31:00.001-07:00

My short story, "Back and Forth," will be appearing in an anthology called UNCAGE ME, released July 24. It also features stories by Scott Phillips, Allan Guthrie, Christa Faust, Victor Gischler, J.A. Konrath, J.D. Rhoades, Declan Burke, Brian Azzarello, Steven Torres, Stewart Macbride, Simon Kernick, Patrick Bagley, Greg Bardsley, Stephen Blackmore, Tim Maleeny, Nick Stone, Martyn Waites, Talia Berliner, Maxim Jakubowski, Blake Crouch, and there's an introduction by John Connolly. The inestimably charming Jennifer Jordan edits....

On Genre and Respect

2009-06-03T14:30:00.001-07:00

I got a very interesting email today from someone writing a PhD in the UK, asking me about garnering literary respect with "genre" fiction.

Here's what I wrote back:

When it comes to genre and respect, I like to rip off Oscar Wilde: "Books are well-written or badly written. That is all."

I am, at heart, a story guy and a structure slut. I studied Shakespeare, particularly the tragedies, because they are terrific thrillers. Macbeth - great mob tale. Hamlet: ghost story. Othello: pre-noir. Etc. Stateside, I love Faulkner - the corncob rape scene in Sanctuary? Need we say more about lurid classifications? I collect his paperbacks from the 50s for their great pulp covers. I enjoy terrific stories where I can find them, and one can find them in all sections of a bookstore. There's a lot of poorly written stuff as well, both "literary" and "commercial," the only distinction seeming to be that commercial crap actually makes the authors money (if you write in cliches, get published, and DON'T make money, well that's an even sadder state of affairs). I also like to point out that "commercial" writing extends across the boards; Updike did okay for himself. Dickens never had trouble paying the rent -- and his literary reputation has survived relatively well. James M. Cain's The Postman Always Rings Twice was the inspiration for Camus's The Stranger. When Gertrude Stein came to California, she only wanted to meet Dashiell Hammet (okay, Chaplin too, but that dilutes the anecdote).

I think crime fiction has replaced the social novel. I'd press someone to find a better practioner of the craft than, say, Poe or Chandler or Lethem or Lehane -- or to find someone who better reveals to us a city or a family or a moral conundrum.

But I find it's no use getting defensive - one can't really win arguing that he or she should be taken more seriously. Better to write as goddamned well as one can manage, and let people sort it out a couple hundred years hence.

International Thriller Writers Big Thrill E-Zine Interview

2009-06-01T07:59:00.001-07:00

This just posted.

Behind the Times

2009-05-23T17:14:00.000-07:00

As usual, I'm behind the times when it comes to reading books - especially high profile books. But these two live up to the hype.

Tom Rob Smith's Child 44 - a tale of a Soviet policemen trying to solve a series of child murders in Stalinist Russia. The genius of the book isn't merely in its evocation of that time, but in the fact that we meet a protagonist as he is growing disillusioned with the very system that he represents - as he is trying to catch a murderer who the state refuses to admit exists.

Timothy Hallinan's A Nail Through the Heart - recommended to me by numerous people with good taste - is a brilliant mystery set in Bangkok. The setting lives and breathes, the characterization is spectacular, and the dialogue is so good you practically hear it out loud. Plus it manages to be noir - wry and cool - without overreaching. Hallinan is a stunning talent.

Robert Crais Interview About Trust No One

2009-05-21T08:36:00.001-07:00

Here are some behind-the-scene shots of me and Robert Crais during our interview about Trust No One. We had a great time talking plot, mayhem, and character....

Shocking Mystery Bookstore Robbery Footage!!

2009-04-30T09:32:00.000-07:00

New Interview up at KGB

2009-04-17T09:54:00.000-07:00

This just posted.

Writing Quotation of the Week

2009-04-15T09:25:00.001-07:00

Writers kid themselves—about themselves and other people. Take the talk about writing methods. Writing is just work—there’s no secret. If you dictate or use a pen or type with your toes—it is just work.
--Sinclair Lewis

Breaking in to Comics

2009-04-09T17:40:00.000-07:00

I often get asked about how one breaks into comics, but I don't have a good answer in general. Because I transitioned from novels and screenplays, I already had writing samples, and I lucked into an editor - Axel Alonso at Marvel - who was familiar with my work. But there's a great article by Steven Grant on CBR that lays out nicely how an aspiring writer might attempt to find work.

Trust No One

2009-03-24T17:44:00.000-07:00

Coming June 23! For more info and for tour info (the tour will include Boston, NY, LA, San Diego, and the Bay Area), go to the newly redesigned www.gregghurwitz.net.

E.B. White Quotation of the Week

2009-03-17T09:18:00.001-07:00

"Be obscure clearly."

Three words, and yet some of the best writing advice I've come across...

Frank Miller's Charlie Brown

2009-03-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

This link, as forwarded to me by Richard Brewer, is well worth a look. Brilliant.

William Maxwell and Jesse Kellerman

2009-03-02T08:52:00.000-08:00

I'd been meaning to write for some time about So Long, See You Tomorrow, an off beat novel centered around a small-town murder by William Maxwell (onetime fiction editor for the New Yorker).

Some lovely, sparse language and wonderful touches - "...I understood not only how generous they were, but that generosity might be the greatest pleasure there is."

"He died in agony, of a gall-bladder attack, when he was in his early fifties, and the oval photograph, adapting itself to circumstances, is now clearly the photograph of a dead man."

"New York City is a place where one can weep on the sidewalk in perfect privacy."

And so on. Great, pithy, insightful language, and some lovely characterization.

Then I read Jesse Kellerman's latest - The Genius (or, in the UK, The Brutal Art). Many of you know that I love JK's writing. His last, Trouble, was one of my favorite books of 2007. Well this is an even more compelling read - at times staggering. His characterization and facility with language is pretty goddamned remarkable. It occurs to me that were I to excerpt my favorite touches and lines, my blog post would go on indefinitely. So just go buy it already.

Quotation of the Week

2009-02-17T09:42:00.000-08:00

"You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed"
~ Antoine de Saint Exupery

Some Vocabulary Words in Honor of Friday the 13th

2009-02-13T08:27:00.000-08:00

And yes, I've seen all 97 movies, including Jason Takes Manhattan and Jason versus Freddie.

Quatorzieme: a professional 14th guest that superstitious hosts can hire for their dinner parties. Popular in Paris.

Paraskavedekatriaphobia or friggatriskaidekaphobia: fear of Friday the 13th

Triskaidekaphobia: fear of the number 13.

Punisher Event

2009-02-09T09:39:00.000-08:00

Here I am at my Punisher: Girls in White Dresses signing with the inimitable Richard Brewer and Robert Crais (who wrote the intro). A great event at Earth2Comics....

Girls in White Dresses: The Trade

2009-02-02T10:26:00.000-08:00

This Wednesday, Punisher: Girls in White Dresses comes out at amazon.com, and at comic shops and book stores everywhere. It collects all five of my Punisher comics, and features an introduction by Robert Crais.

My sole signing will be Feb 7, 1 pm at:

Earth2Comics
15017 Ventura Blvd
Sherman Oaks, CA 91403
818.386.9590

Quotation of the Day

2009-01-27T08:41:00.001-08:00

"The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything."
Theodore Roosevelt ~

Happy Inauguration Day!

2009-01-20T21:35:00.001-08:00

And to celebrate, the single best version of our national anthem, recorded by perhaps the only individual cooler than our new President.

Hugh Jackman on Creative Courage

2009-01-14T08:51:00.000-08:00

"I've always felt that if you back down from a fear, the ghost of that fear never goes away. It diminishes people. So I've always said 'yes' to the thing I'm most scared about. The fear of letting myself down -- of saying 'no' to something that I was afraid of and then sitting in my room later going, 'I wish I'd had the guts to say this or that' -- that galvanizes me more than anything."
--Hugh Jackman

I've often wondered if this kind of fear fuels creative drive.....

Me and Christopher Rice on TV interview

2009-01-06T09:24:00.000-08:00

Here's me and the inestimable Mr. Rice doing an interview on the Patti Gribow show, where we discuss research, writing gay characters (as a straight vs. gay author), choosing plots, and generally make fun of each other.

Wit and Wisdom

2009-01-01T12:33:00.001-08:00

Josh Billings, considered by many to be our country's second greatest humorist (behind Mark Twain) is overlooked by many.

I thought I'd ring in the new year with a few favorite quotations:

-- -- --

I have never known a person to live to be one hundred and be remarkable for anything else.

As a general thing, when a woman wears the pants in a family, she has a good right to them.

Learning sleeps and snores in libraries, but wisdom is everywhere, wide awake, on tiptoe.

Life is short, but it's long enough to ruin any man who wants to be ruined.

Love looks through a telescope; envy, through a microscope.

Most people when they come to you for advice, come to have their own opinions strengthened, not corrected.

Reason often makes mistakes, but conscience never does.

Silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute.

The best way to convince a fool that he is wrong is to let him have his own way.

The road to ruin is always in good repair, and the travellers pay the expense of it.

There are people who are always anticipating trouble, and in this way they manage to enjoy many sorrows that never really happen to them.

There are two kinds of fools: those who can't change their opinions and those who won't.

There's a great power in words, if you don't hitch too many of them together.

Words are often seen hunting for an idea, but ideas are never seen hunting for words.

The End of The Punisher Arc

2008-12-18T07:53:00.001-08:00

The final book of my Punisher arc, JIGSAW, came out yesterday. I had more fun writing this story than anything I've yet done in comics. It will be collected in a trade shortly, I'd assume.

Look next for a short comedic Wolverine piece I did in SWITCHBACK, coming out Jan 7.

Happy Holidays, Bub

2008-12-12T14:27:00.000-08:00

Ring in the new year with some mutant violence.

Swallowed the Spider (alternate title: Flies to a Web) now available at fine comic book establishments everywhere. Art by Jerome Opena, cover by the infamous Tim Bradstreet.

The Shield Finale

2008-12-09T13:12:00.000-08:00

Now any of you who know me know that I love this show. The final episode was the best ending to any TV series I've seen, and the party proved pretty jaw-dropping as well, particularly when the head of FX read off the list of accolades that the show gathered over its 88-episode run.

My favorite character was Lem, and when Lem was killed off, I was so angry with Shawn Ryan (the show's creator and a buddy of mine) that I refused to speak to him for days. I mean - how could you kill Lem? Even years later, the injustice still smolders. So I began a running joke with Shawn -- "Hey, I have an idea. You should have an episode where Lem comes back from the dead and solves crime!"

"Ever think about giving Lem his own spin-off?"

"Do you think Lem will go with me to prom?"

Et cetera.

So at the finale, where the last episode was presented on the big screen at the Hollywood Arclight, I took my seat, and then left to grab some more popcorn. When I came back, someone was hiding under my coat. I thought it was someone fooling around, so I gave him a good smack and when the guy lowered the jacket from over his head, it was.....Kenny Johnson, the actor who plays Lem! Despite years of harassment from me, Shawn had brought him over to meet me -- an indication of Shawn's graciousness, and proof that no bad deed (harassment) goes unrewarded.

It was also great to see other cast member buddies - Jay Karnes and David Rees Snell in particular - enjoy this time looking back at what they had created. I met Walton Goggins, who was exceptional throughout the show, and I had a good talk with Michael Chiklis about Shakespeare (or as he likes to think of him, Edward de Vere). Thanks to Jason Ryan for the photo.

All in all, it was a remarkable night capping one of the most remarkable shows in the history of television. Congrats to all the cast and crew for what they accomplished here.

Horton Foote

2008-12-05T14:03:00.001-08:00

"I live to write."

I've long maintained that writing—for those of us who really write—isn't a hobby or a love or a job, but a compulsion. I came across Foote's quotation today, and I was trying to think what it would be like to live WITHOUT writing. I'd make it a few weeks, I think, and then my head would explode. I suppose there's a certain illness or instability in someone who requires eight to ten hours a day of sublimation to maintain a sense of purpose, but hell, I guess you dance with the one who brung you.

So much of a writer's life is filtered through a narrative lens. Most every exchange, event, subtlety raises questions: Can I use that? How could I tweak that in a plot to evoke the same sentiment? Can I mirror that language for a character? It's distracting, yes, and sets one at a certain remove from life at times, but it's also a lot of goddamned fun. Sort of like playing a game in your head your whole life.

So Foote's line seems particularly apt, since for some of us, there doesn't seem to be any other way TO live.

This Says It All

2008-12-01T08:30:00.000-08:00

I thought this quotation, from the cover of this month's Vanity Fair, appropriate for a writer's blog:

"Amateurs dream. Professionals work."
--Garson Kanin

Or, as I've often remarked about Los Angeles: "I meet a lot of people who want to be writers. I meet very few who actually want to write."

The Times They Are A-Changin'

2008-11-25T08:43:00.001-08:00

Would you have flunked eighth grade in 1895?

A Tale of Book Savagery

2008-11-23T14:07:00.000-08:00

Check out Bookreporter.com for a holiday tale involved me, my sister, Michael Connelly's The Black Echo, and that dumb-ass, Sandy.

A Fistful Of, uh, uh, Asskicking

2008-11-19T09:31:00.000-08:00

Unveiling today, the final Foolkiller in my second limited series, White Angels.

And the fourth Punisher of my run - perhaps my favorite cover, by artist and devil pig, the Good Reverend David Cornelius Johnson.

Crime Novelists Beware

2008-11-18T07:25:00.000-08:00

Life is imitating art.....

Ten Most Irritating Expressions

2008-11-07T07:48:00.000-08:00

Thank you Charlotte Bailey of The Telegraph, UK.

What's your most irritating phrase? Mine is probably the oft-misused "Hopefully."

Oxford compiles list of top ten irritating phrases

A top 10 of irritating expressions has been compiled by researchers at Oxford University.

Heading the list was the expression 'at the end of the day', which was followed in second place by the phrase 'fairly unique'.

The tautological statement "I personally" made third place – an expression that BBC Radio 4 presenter John Humphreys has described as "the linguistic equivalent of having chips with rice."

Also making the top 10 is the grammatically incorrect "shouldn't of", instead of "shouldn't have".

The phrases appear in a book called Damp Squid, named after the mistake of confusing a squid with a squib, a type of firework.

The researchers who compiled the list monitor the use of phrases in a database called the Oxford University Corpus, which comprises books, papers, magazines, broadcast, the internet and other sources.

The database alerts them to new words and phrases and can tell them which expressions are disappearing. It also shows how words are being misused.

As well as the above expressions, the book's author Jeremy Butterfield says that many annoyingly over-used expressions actually began as office lingo, such as 24/7 and "synergy".

Other phrases to irritate people are "literally" and "ironically", when they are used out of context.

Mr Butterfield said: "We grow tired of anything that is repeated too often – an anecdote, a joke, a mannerism – and the same seems to happen with some language."

The top ten most irritating phrases:

1 - At the end of the day

2 - Fairly unique

3 - I personally

4 - At this moment in time

5 - With all due respect

6 - Absolutely

7 - It's a nightmare

8 - Shouldn't of

9 - 24/7

10 - It's not rocket science

Last Shot Now Out....In Russian!

2008-10-28T08:48:00.000-07:00

The Russians, I think, make the coolest, toughest covers. This one for Last Shot looks like a movie one-sheet. Having just visited Russia and acquainted myself with various personalities there, I had to laugh at Guy Ritchie's portrayal of the Russian hitmen in Rockandrolla. No matter the injuries, they keep coming! Garth Ennis also had a great Russian hitman in his Punisher MAX run -- one of my favorite new characters he introduced.

So I consider this cover a celebration of everything that's bad-ass about Russia.

Tomorrow is Punisher/Foolkiller Day

2008-10-14T11:47:00.000-07:00

Wolverine is Coming to Town

2008-10-10T10:15:00.001-07:00

December.

Comics on Comics

2008-10-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

With Marc Evanier, Asterios Kokkinos, Kathryn Lyn, and Robbie Peron, I did a panel called Comics on Comics at the West Hollywood festival -- comics book creators and comedians discussing (in smart-ass fashion) the state of the comic-book industry. It was a blast and really funny - available for watching here, or iTunes download here.

Smoking in Moscow

2008-10-01T08:36:00.000-07:00

I love cigars. In the scene in The Crime Writer, where Drew Danner gets home from court, goes out back, and smokes a cigar on his back deck....well, that's my deck. And it was my cigar too (fictional cigar-swiping bastid!). When I was in Russia, Smoke Magazine interviewed me, and photographer Dima Gushchin took a bunch of pictures for a big feature article. Here's a few of them, showing me puffing smugly away, with furrowed brow and a (I hope) an aura of gangsta gravitas.

On the entertainment front, I suggest you all see Burn After Reading, which embodies the level of brilliant quirkitude we've come to expect from the Coen brothers. Appaloosa has some great scenes and moments (Two men lying wounded in the dirt after a shootout. "Well, that was quick." Reply: "Everyone knew how to shoot.")

And, lastly, if you're not reading Eric Powell's The Goon, why the hell not?

Vigilante Madness

2008-09-18T10:52:00.001-07:00

This week.

Back From Russia

2008-09-15T09:08:00.000-07:00

I went to Russia for the Moscow Book Fair, and for a lineup of interviews, signings, and presentations. Between Moscow and St. Petersburg, I had a lot of adventures and no shortage of fun, and I even got to see Lenin's pickled body on its slab outside the Kremlin. All four Rackley books are in translation there, and it was really interesting to see how different the questions were posed by Russian readers -- a very informed, intellectual crew. I hope to have some pictures to post shortly, but for now, it's jetlag and catch-up!

Wizard Interview re: Punisher

2008-09-03T23:34:00.000-07:00

Here's my latest interview for Punisher, from the folks at Wizard.

Glasvegas

2008-08-28T10:24:00.000-07:00

This is the best new band I can remember hearing. Or, I should say, I can't recall the last time I was so excited by a group.

Out of Glasgow, they're sort of Phil Spector Wall of Sound meets U2, strained through The Jesus and Mary Chain with, uh, du-woop?! James Allan, the lead singer and writer, is a poet.

In particular, you need to check out "Flowers and Football Tops," "Geraldine," and "Daddy's Gone." Find the lyrics on line -- some of you might need a little help with the Glaswegian accent.

As a writer, I don't usually write about bands, but these lyrics are gorgeous with a strong narrative drive. And beside, hell, if I'm this excited by anything....

Many thanks to writer buddy David Young for referring me to them (and I stole part of his description).

Punisher Interview

2008-08-27T12:59:00.000-07:00

Here's an interview with the good folks at Comic-Related about Punisher 61, my run on the title, and coming violence.

One Day, Two Comics

2008-08-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

This Wed, the second Foolkiller in the second limited series came out, with a special guest appearance by....the Punisher.

And my first Punisher - cover by Dave Johnson, art by the inimitable Laurence Campbell, also hit stands.

It's a vigilante two-fer....

Coming To You From Chiang Mai, Thailand

2008-08-18T13:33:00.001-07:00

One of the more unusual sightings of The Crime Writer, courtesy of Kyle Khasigian...

Some Belated Pics from Thrillerfest

2008-08-08T09:30:00.000-07:00

Here I am with Bob Crais and Überagent Aaron Priest. And below is Crais and Coben with the brilliant Lisa Erbach Vance. We had a great time at the awards; our table included me, Harlan Coben, Robert Crais, Aaron Priest, Lisa Erbach Vance, Lucy Childs, David Hosp, and David Baldacci. A good crew.

Comic-Con

2008-07-27T08:53:00.001-07:00

Pretty much lives up to the hype. Now I'm not the biggest convention person, but I have to say, the range of cool shit on hand was, well, pretty extraordinary. Among the highlights were sharing a softball infield with Marvel legend John Romita, Jr., then signing next to him a day later, catching up over dinner with the inimitable Howard Chaykin, and wandering the floor to see which artists' work caught my eye. My favorite "discovery" (he's been around longer than I have, but I only discovered him this weekend) is Mike Sosnowski, an incredible artist. Check out "The Culprit" - I picked up a print for the house.

He's Baaa-acck!

2008-07-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

Foolkiller #1 of 5. Short Time. Arc title: White Angels. On stands today.

Jesse Kellerman

2008-07-14T14:14:00.000-07:00

Jesse Kellerman's novel, Trouble, was nominated in the same category as The Crime Writer for the ITW Thriller Awards (from which I just returned - another glorious six-hour delay at JFK, this one involving a panic-attack-having passenger in a Detroit Tigers jacket forcing our return to the gate, thereby losing us our spot in the lengthy queue for takeoff. In fairness, if I was a Tigers fan this season, perhaps I'd be having panic attacks too. But we digress.).

So.

I thought, in a show of graciousness, I should read said book so I could have something pleasant to say to Jesse should we cross paths, or -- if said book proved unworthy -- so I could generate a suitable compliment ("The font was really lovely." "That book jacket - wow!" "I really like your shoes.")

Well.

About thirty pages in, I had that feeling of excitement. You know the one - where you realize that not only have you hooked into a book that you Love, but that you are reading an author who you know that you will be reading for years to come. It is not an exaggeration to say that his is the most exciting new voice in crime fiction I've read in years.

I gave my copy to a friend I saw in New York. Got another one for my sister. Pitched the lady sitting next to me on the plane. Emailed my agent, and my editor. Mentioned it to a screenwriter buddy at lunch. Yeah, that kind of book. Dark and sophisticated, with a playwright's dialogue and a psychologist's, uh, uh, insight. And good words and stuff, too.

His other novels, Sunstroke and The Genius, are on my list, to be bought on my next bookstore trip. Trouble should certainly be on yours.

Thrillerfest 2008

2008-07-10T04:11:00.000-07:00

I'm off to ThrillerFest in New York. Should be a lot of fun. It'll be the biggest collection of thriller writers in one hotel in a long time, with David Baldacci, Harlan Coben, Robert Crais, Sandra Brown, James Patterson, Brad Thor, Kathy Reichs, R.L. Stine, Lee Child, Heather Graham, and more. My panel with other Thriller Award nominees is Saturday at 11, but each day will be filled with workshops, panels, and speeches on everything from martial arts to forensics to clichés that piss writers off. I think it not unreasonable to predict that bourbon will be in evidence as well.

The Crime Writer Out In Paperback

2008-06-20T13:08:00.000-07:00

On June 24, the paperback of THE CRIME WRITER will launch. The cover is more or less the same, with a few added blurbs from Dennis Lehane, Robert Crais, Lee Child, and Brad Meltzer.

Also, in addition to being nominated for Best Novel from International Thriller Writers, the book (as I SEE YOU) has been shortlisted for the Ian Fleming Steel Dagger. Which, in addition to being a great honor, has the all-time best name for a literary prize.

On the eve of this wider launch, I wanted to take a moment to thank readers, booksellers, reviewers, and librarians for their stunning support of this book, and their help in making it an instant international bestseller.

Stan Winston

2008-06-16T14:06:00.000-07:00

Another great one, gone too soon.

Writing Quotation of the Week

2008-06-08T10:23:00.000-07:00

File this one in the "show, don't tell" category.

"Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader—not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon."
--E.L. Doctorow

One of the Greats

2008-05-26T21:52:00.000-07:00

Sydney Pollack, rest in peace.

A Favorite New Foreign Cover

2008-05-19T09:36:00.000-07:00

From Spain. I love this one. It took a few looks to pick up the scalpel in place of the pencil. It's so great when a foreign edition arrives with a really masterful cover like this one.

Nobody's Fool

2008-05-07T16:12:00.000-07:00

Today.

The end of the five-comic limited. All five comics will also soon be collected in a trade edition, also available at your nearest comic book store.

Stay tuned for the next Foolkiller limited, which will be called White Angels.

New Sheriff In Town

2008-05-02T09:03:00.000-07:00

Some art from my first Punisher (#61).

Thank you, Laurence Campbell (interiors).

Thank you Dave Johnson (cover).

Blurb Bitching II: Bride of Blurbs Bitching

2008-04-30T08:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, I got a fair number of emails in response to my Blurb Bitching blog entry (some months back) so I thought I’d answer the main questions being put to me.

What makes you more likely to blurb?

1. A personalized letter from the author. I’ve gotten a few really great letters from editors that made me crack a galley, but for the most part, if the author doesn’t even have time to enclose her thoughts, I generally don’t have time to read her manuscript. So don’t leave it solely to your publicist/editor/agent/friend who walks dogs with Thomas Harris. Have them do the hand-off, but make sure you get your voice in there.
2. If the person requesting a blurb from me is familiar with my work, and makes that somewhat clear in the cover letter. Nothing says arrogance like an unpublished writer asking me to read his manuscript who hasn’t bothered to read one of my books. When it came to the authors I asked for blurbs from, I made sure I’d read virtually everything they had in print. An if their oeuvres were unrealistically weighty, I made sure I’d read at least four or five of their novels.
3. I won’t blurb books from vanity presses.
4. If the damn thing looks good. I don’t care if it’s a social novel or a book of lesbian haiku, the first few pages better sing.
5. (And here I feel like Ms. Curmudgeon, your high school college admissions advisor): Don’t make dumb-ass spelling and grammar errors in your cover letter. If you can’t be bothered to figure out the difference between “it’s” and “its” in a one-paragraph cover letter, you probably shouldn’t be pointing a 300-page manuscript my direction.

Will you always blurb your friends even if their books suck?

No. And Ayn Rand better quit asking.

Do you ever tell people you don’t like their books?

No. They’re not asking for a critique, just a blurb. So I’m not reading looking to be helpful from an editorial perspective. I never want to undermine a young (or old, for that matter) author early in her career with a rejection, so I will often beg off mediocre manuscripts due to exigencies of schedule, etc.. Often this isn’t an excuse; much of the time it’s true.

The Punisher

2008-04-20T19:34:00.000-07:00

As was announced this weekend, I will be writing the next Punisher arc after Garth Ennis's legendary run on the title. My five-book arc will be called "Girls in White Dresses," and it'll be followed by arcs by Duane Swierczynski and Victor Gischler, both of which I'm really looking forward to. You can tell I'm up for the challenge by the fact that I just wrote "arc" three times in two sentences.

Website for the Sick and Twisted

2008-04-13T07:13:00.001-07:00

A buddy of mine forwarded on this link. A pretty amazing look at that most American of conventions: the last meal on death row.

What would you order?

Battlestar Galactica Season 3 Out On DVD

2008-04-07T08:47:00.001-07:00

If you don't like Battlestar Galactica, you have no soul.

I'm just sayin'.

Three Books

2008-03-27T13:25:00.000-07:00

I recently finished April Smith's Judas Horse and was blown away by her command of character and language. The book is rich and sophisticated and yet never overdone. There's not a sentence in there that's a stretch. She does something I admire very much; she can give us a perfect understanding of a character in a few paragraphs, while never resorting to stereotype. It's a fine line, and she walks it beautifully.

I also finished Marcus Sakey's The Blade Itself -- such an impressive novel, particularly for a debut. He really knows how to ratchet up the suspense, one step at a time. It's a very capable, tight, well-constructed thriller. He unafraid to locate flaws - and fault - within his protagonists, something a lot of writers shy away from. And that makes his protag so much more easy to identify with. We really feel his predicament. It's also such a lean book. Everything in the service of plot. And yet he still manages to cover his bases and get in enough character work to make it a compelling read. I can't remember the last time I read a book that quickly.

Finally, my boy Ross Macdonald's Black Money. And with him, it's best to let him speak for himself:

"They were innocent eyes, not youthful but innocent, as if they perceived only pre-selected facts."

"He was retreating angrily into bad grammar."

"The pictures on the wall were all religious, and there were so many of them that they suggested a line of defense against the world."

"It was a moral hardship for me to walk away from an unclosed case."

From Russia With Love

2008-03-24T15:36:00.001-07:00

The Rackley books have been getting some nice attention in Russia, where The Kill Clause and Troubleshooter have already come out from my excellent publisher, Geleos. In 2008, The Program and Last Shot will be published. A few months ago, I posted the Russian Troubleshooter cover, one of my favorite foreign covers ever. Here's The Program.

International Thriller Writers Announces 2008 Nominations

2008-03-20T09:44:00.000-07:00

ITW just picked their five bests in three categories. Lovely news, and great to be nominated along with my buddy, Robert Crais.

BEST NOVEL 2008
No Time For Goodbye by Linwood Barclay (Bantam)
The Watchman by Robert Crais (Simon & Schuster)
The Ghost by Robert Harris (Simon & Schuster)
The Crime Writer by Gregg Hurwitz (Viking)
Trouble by Jesse Kellerman (Putnam)

BEST FIRST NOVEL 2008
Interred With Their Bones by Jennifer Lee Carrell (Dutton)
Big City, Bad Blood by Sean Chercover (William Morrow)
From the Depths by Gerry Doyle (McBook Press)
Volk's Game by Brent Ghelfi (Henry Holt and Co.)
Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill (William Morrow)

BEST PAPERBACK ORIGINAL 2008
The Last Nightingale by Anthony Flacco (Ballantine)
A Thousand Bones by P.J. Parrish (Pocket)
The Midnight Road by Tom Piccirilli (Bantam)
The Queen of Bedlam by Robert McCammon (Pocket)
Shattered by Jay Bonansinga (Pinnacle)

Introducing....A New Type of Assassin

2008-03-19T08:21:00.000-07:00

Today.

Meet Sickle Moon.

Spring Training

2008-03-11T11:22:00.000-07:00

Ah, there is a new bounce to my step with the return of the smell of freshly mowed outfield grass. Baseball is art. It is opera. With its delightful nine-act structure -- meticulous strategy punctuated by bursts of action -- it is the best sport for the (criminally) literary minded.

I give you two quotations from -- of all people -- George Will:

"Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. Not all holes, or games, are created equal."

And to counter the naysayers:

"Football combines the two worst things about America: it is violence punctuated by committee meetings."

The prosecution rests.

Mitch Hedberg on Screenwriting

2008-03-08T08:49:00.001-08:00

"I wrote a script and gave it to a guy who reads scripts. He said he loved it, but I had to rewrite it. I said, 'Fuck that, I'll just make a copy.' "

Rip Torn and Normal Mailer On-Camera Fight

2008-02-28T13:21:00.000-08:00

Really, you must watch this.

During the filming of Maidstone, Torn hits Mailer on the head with a hammer. Then Mailer mostly bites his ear off. This is what we call literary mayhem.

The Razzies Announced for Worst Movie Honors

2008-02-24T09:24:00.001-08:00

All I have to say for Linsay Lohan is....ouch.

Here they are:

Worst Picture:

I Know Who Killed Me

Worst Actor:

Eddie Murphy, 'Norbit'

Worst Actress:

Lindsay Lohan, 'I Know Who Killed Me'

Worst Supporting Actress:

Lindsay Lohan (as Aubrey), 'I Know Who Killed Me'

Lindsay Lohan (as Dakota), 'I Know Who Killed Me'

Worst Screen Couple:

Lindsay Lohan & Lindsay Lohan, 'I Know Who Killed Me'

Worst Remake or Rip-Off:

I Know Who Killed Me (Rip-Off of 'Hostel,' 'Saw,' and 'The Patty Duke Show')

Worst Prequel or Sequel:

Daddy Day Camp

Worst Director:

Chris Siverston, 'I Know Who Killed Me'

Worst Screenplay:

Jeffrey Hammond, 'I Know Who Killed Me'

Worst Excuse for a Horror Movie:

I Know Who Killed Me

Quotation of the Week

2008-02-19T09:37:00.001-08:00

I got this appended to an email from a Navy SEAL buddy. I think it's a great one:

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”
--Proverbs 27:17

Print on Demand - A Dream of the Future?

2008-02-10T08:45:00.001-08:00

I just finished reading RETURN FROM THE STARS by Stanlislaw Lem, renowned Polish science fiction writer (I would venture to say he is the MOST renowned Polish science fiction writer, but that sounds too much like a joke).

Published in 1961, this book has this vision of the future of publishing:

"The originals—crystomatrices—were not to be seen; they were kept behind pale blue enameled steel plates. So a book was printed, as it were, every time someone needed it. The question of printings, of their quantity, of their running out, had ceased to exist. Actually, a great achievement, and yet I regretted the passing of books."

Sound familiar?

Smart-Ass Quotation of the Week

2008-02-02T09:45:00.001-08:00

"The world is overstocked with people who are ready and eager to teach other people to write. It seems astonishing that so much bad writing should find its way into print when so much good advice is to be had."
--Robertson Davies

Horror Movie of the Year

2008-01-26T09:13:00.000-08:00

Far and away the best horror movie I've seen this year - in fact, in many years, is The Orphanage. I don't want to say anything about it for fear of giving away anything. But it is a staggering psychological study. There are virtually no cheap thrills, just a slow, mounting terror. It is amazing.

And while I'm on movies, I should list my favorites of the past year (since, for the first time, I'm not on any best-film or -script panels, so I'm not sworn to secrecy).

Best Drama: Michael Clayton.
Best Comedy: Juno.

What were your favorite movies of 2007?

Oh, and here's a great little real-life amateur detective story you might enjoy.

Advice of the Day

2008-01-21T10:31:00.000-08:00

"Never be the brightest person in the room."
--James D. Watson

On Art and Editing....and Editing....and Editing

2008-01-14T08:36:00.001-08:00

"Art is never finished, only abandoned."

Leonardo da Vinci

Guess the Country...

2008-01-01T10:10:00.000-08:00

...and the book.

This is one of my favorite foreign covers for one of my novels.

Foolkiller #3

2007-12-20T16:23:00.001-08:00

Today.

A Word on the Strike

2007-12-18T08:27:00.000-08:00

I attended a Writer’s Guild Meeting last night, where members heard from the negotiating committee and Guild leadership. One of the tactics of the AMPTP has been to portray our leadership as crazy, power-drunk, and out of touch with the demands of the business and the interests of our membership.

Like many writers, I am not a joiner nor a big fan of groups. I wasn’t a boy scout; I’ve never been a member of a church or temple; I didn’t join a frat in college. Clubs and allegiances make me slightly nervous, and I’ve never had a taste for chants and slogans. Usually when large groups unite behind a cause, I can’t stomach the dogma that inevitably emerges. So you can imagine that the “brotherhood” aspect of the strike is not one that I cotton to naturally, nor am I inclined to believe that leadership—of any kind—will adequately represent my interests or viewpoint.

Add to that the fact that it is always more fun and seemingly more sophisticated to be cynical. It’s always easier to cast a jaundiced eye, to be the one who sees through the bullshit, who knows a better angle, who has the caustic aside that breaks up the lockstep of the zoned-out masses.

Like everyone else who works in Hollywood, I have followed this strike closely because of what’s at stake. And in last night’s meeting, as in the previous guild meeting, I can report that there was not a single strategy, proposal, or explanation presented to me by WGA leadership and the negotiating committee that I disagreed with.

Not one.

Our leadership, our negotiating committee, our positions are eminently reasonable, considered, and, yes, sane. These are complicated issues, and most people don’t have a clear grasp of them. What is at stake is New Media. The internet. How films and TV shows will be distributed. What is at stake is the future and how—indeed if—writers will be compensated in it.

Coming to Hollywood as an author, I was amazed at the benefits and infrastructure provided to me as a screenwriter. Health care. Pension. Residuals. Minimums. There’s not a day I’ve worked in L.A. that I’m not grateful for these benefits—benefits that provide for my family and that allow me to continue to do my job. These benefits were won by the sweat and courage of men and women who had much more to lose and who took greater risks than those before us now. These benefits were won by the sacrifices others made for future generations, for me.

This membership, this year, cannot dissipate those gains. We cannot cave in to an unfair deal that writers decades from now will be saddled with. This is a watershed contract. Future writers will look back to this year, to this contract, to us, every day as they live with what our resolve and respect for writing yielded. They can look back on us with the same gratitude we look back on those who came before us. Or they can look back with disappointment.

We’d be well served to remember that this contract isn’t just for us.

In full support,

Gregg Hurwitz

Foolkiller #2

2007-12-11T08:02:00.001-08:00

Now that Foolkiller #2 is out, some of you might recognize these comics that young Mike Trace tries to steal from the pawnshop. Does anyone know their significance?

More Mailer

2007-11-30T09:03:00.000-08:00

I seem to be missing Norman Mailer today. So here's another favorite quotation.

“Being a man is the continuing battle of one’s life, and one loses a bit of manhood with every stale compromise to the authority of any power in which one does not believe.”
-N.M.

The Squeeze

2007-11-19T11:12:00.000-08:00

This article, from Yahoo news, seems like bad news all around.

Here's the opening....

NEW YORK - The latest National Endowment for the Arts report draws on a variety of sources, public and private, and essentially reaches one conclusion: Americans are reading less.

The 99-page study, "To Read or Not to Read," is being released Monday as a follow-up to a 2004 NEA survey, "Reading at Risk," that found an increasing number of adult Americans were not even reading one book a year (bold mine).

Norman Mailer, R.I.P.

2007-11-13T07:36:00.000-08:00

"You don't really know a woman until you meet her in court.”
--Norman Mailer

The Crime Writer/I See You Charts Update

2007-11-02T07:34:00.000-07:00

The Crime Writer debuted in the US as an LA Times Top 10 bestseller.

As I See You, it spent 11 weeks on the Ireland bestseller list, 5 of those in the top ten.
4 weeks on the bestseller list in the UK.
4 weeks on the bestseller list in Australia.

So a great start for the English territories. Still to come: France, Italy, Germany, Holland, Spain, Japan, Israel, Poland, and more.

I feel fortunate to have such a great group of readers, librarians, sales reps, and editors.

Everybody Plays The Fool

2007-10-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

And, alas, me too. My editor, Axel Alonso, sent me this jpeg some time back, telling me that it would be the first Foolkiller cover. I opened it with great excitement....

Oh well, can't win 'em all.

There's a fun - and unusual - interview with me up at Silver Bullet Comics in anticipation of the first Foolkiller's launch, which is tomorrow!

Lan Medina Art

2007-10-13T09:34:00.000-07:00

Here's a peek at some art from the first Foolkiller, coming out Oct 23. Lan Medina strikes again!

For a cool new montage of comic art, put together by my MySpace guy, Eric Thoma, check this out.

He's Heeere!!

2007-10-04T21:34:00.001-07:00

In comic book stores everywhere.