For the past couple of months, I’ve been writing a woman I’ve never met. I know her every secret and can finish all her sentences. Her name’s Roxy, and I can’t stop thinking about her.
My wife, Miranda, is totally cool with it. Thinks it’s great. In fact, Miranda encourages me to spend several hours a day in a room alone with Roxy. Even suggests exciting risks to take with her and challenging positions to put her in.
It’s not as kinky as it sounds ... unless you get off on watching an author out of his element.
Roxy’s full name is Roxy Scott—the main character in the novel I’m working on. (Yes, I’m writing yet another novel, despite what my tax returns keep telling me.) This is the first time I’ve ever written a female protagonist (a biracial one, no less), and I’m learning a lot in the process. Like what jackasses men can be, how much stronger women are, and how inconvenient and inhumane depilation is.
You know, the kind of stuff pretty much every woman who’s ever lived has always known.
It’s not easy being a woman. Or writing one as a man. There are myriad pitfalls and challenges male authors—particularly straight male authors—face when writing a female protagonist, or any female character for that matter.
The biggest mistake so many male writers make in their books is the same mistake so many male non-writers make in everyday life: They think of women in an overly sexual manner. Even worse, they think as women in an overly sexual a manner. You can usually tell when a first-person POV story about a woman has been written by a man—you’ll catch the character thinking about or referencing certain parts of her body a bit too often and at odd times. The way only an idiot with a penis would.
“No further questions, your Honor,” I said to the judge before glancing over at the jury, beads of sweat glistening between my breasts.
The doorbell rang. Right then and there, while ripping the last wax strip from my bikini line, I knew Jack was dead.
Okay, those examples are a bit hyperbolic, but you get the idea. And if you don’t, go read a book starring a female protagonist written by pretty much any male author besides Kazuo Ishiguro, Jeffrey Eugenides Ian McEwan or Tom Perrotta. (Yes, I know there are other men who write women well, but humor me here in the interest of time and space.)
So, what am I doing to avoid introducing to the literary world yet another one-dimensional woman for the critics to eviscerate? What am I doing to help ensure that Roxy Scott leaps off the page with flesh, bone and soul, and makes readers forget there’s a man behind the curtain? Well, I’ll tell you what I’m doing …
… I’m listening to her.
I realize that sounds a bit woo-woo, perhaps even pretentious, but it’s true. I spent a lot of time “getting to know” Roxy before actually starting to write about her. I took a ton of notes about her imaginary past and present. I paid particular attention to her unique strengths and weaknesses, her habits and quirks, her pain and pride. Her successes. Her failures. As a result, each day when I’m working on the manuscript, it’s more Roxy guiding me than me guiding Roxy. She’s far too tough and independent to be pushed around by a mid-list male writer like me. In fact, she scares me a little.
That said, I’ve tried to not make Roxy so tough and independent she shows up as a machine, an invincible badass. This is another common mistake men make when writing a female protagonist. We try so hard to avoid turning the character into a clichéd woman, we inadvertently turn her into a clichéd man—thus making her easier to write, but unbelievably unbelievable to the reader. I’ll admit, there were a few times when I unwittingly started to veer toward over-masculinity while writing Roxy. Fortunately, though, she brought these incidents to my attention and set me straight. “Hey, Greg,” she wrote on my bathroom mirror in red lipstick one day, “I’m glad you didn’t try to make me a supermodel sex goddess princess, but please keep in mind I’m still a woman with wants and needs.” It was a difficult and awkward "conversation"—like finding out that your own mother or sister has a sex life.
While listening to Roxy is essential and has served me well, I realize doing everything a fictional person tells me to do isn’t writing. It's schizophrenia. So I’ve had to learn to trust my gut at times. To rely on my male intuition about being a woman. (I’m pretty sure that’s never gotten any man into trouble before.) Not to brag, but after more than forty years of disappointing and aggravating mothers, grandmothers, daughters, aunts, girlfriends, girl friends and wives, I know a thing or two about what the opposite sex hates. I figure I can just extrapolate from there.
But the truth is, I'm learning to focus less on the fact that I’m writing a female main character and more on the fact that I’m writing a human one. I mean, let’s face it, aside from the (usually) obvious anatomical contrasts, women and men are not as different as they used to be. Gender roles—and pronouns—have been bending beyond easy recognition for years now. A typical “he” and a typical “she” aren’t what they used to be. And that’s a good thing—unless you happen to get fooled while vacationing in Thailand.
So, I’m just going to keep writing Roxy Scott to the best of my ability, taking her thoughts and interests and motivations into careful consideration as we, together, push the plot forward. I won’t boss her around, sell her out, have her talk like a tart or make her act like a man. I’ll continue to honor her autonomy and her ability to make her own decisions, as well as her ability to deal with the consequences of those decisions.
Bottom line is, I’ll treat Roxy with the same level of respect I would any woman. Or man. Or anyone in between. More precisely, I’ll treat Roxy with the same level of respect I’d want to be treated with if Roxy were writing me.
And who’s to say she isn’t?
YOUR TURN. Name some male authors (and/or their book titles) you feel do justice to their female characters. Or, name some male authors/books that DON’T. (Fear not—it’s highly unlikely any famous authors read my blog.) Also, it’s been said that women do a better job of writing men than men do of writing women. Do you agree? I'd love for you to share your thoughts in the comments section below.
(In totally unrelated news, today [Wednesday, May 9] is the last day to get the Kindle edition of my latest thriller for JUST 99 CENTS. Click HERE to take advantage of this deal. Thanks!)
Few things bring me more pleasure than asking fellow authors questions about their life and their writing process. Every once in a while, a fellow author will even respond to my questions.
Like R.D. Ronald, for instance. If his name seems familiar to you, it’s likely because he’s written two very cool novels within the past decade (one of which—The Elephant Tree—was among the titles featured in the big book giveaway I hosted a few months ago). R.D. writes transgressive fiction—in the same vein as authors like Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club), Bret Easton Ellis (American Psycho), Irvine Welsh (Trainspotting) and, last and certainly least, me.
Below is my interview with R.D., who’s from England but who may soon be moving to Cyprus in order to dodge British authorities. Thus, to experience the full effect of the interview, it’s absolutely essential you read R.D.’s responses in a thick Newcastle accent while sounding a bit suspicious.
Hello, R.D. It’s an honor to have you here. You describe yourself as a “transgressive novelist for all and none.” I love that! What the hell does it mean?
The “for all and none” quote is from Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Nietzsche. I loved it when I first read it, and thought it so aptly applied to my books—and to transgressive fiction in general. For those unfamiliar with what exactly transgressive fiction is, Wikipedia hits the nail on the head with this definition: “A genre of literature that focusses on characters who feel confined by the norms and expectations of society and who break free of those confines in unusual or illicit ways. Because they are rebelling against the basic norms of society, protagonists of transgressive fiction may seem mentally ill, anti-social or nihilistic.”
You’re one of the biggest proponents of transgressive fiction, and have worked tirelessly to make the term/genre all the rage again. Why so passionate about this type of writing? More importantly, please hurry up and make it all the rage again so we can both sell more books.
I've always been passionate about transgressive fiction—long before I knew the term existed or, indeed, what it even was. If you're someone who has found yourself on the outside of things your whole life, never really fitting in here or there, then the voices and stories in transgressive books really feel they can be a mouthpiece for individuals you relate to. The problem was that there was no easy way to discover similar books, and most of my favorites from the genre I discovered completely by accident. I think generalizing the “ungeneralizeable” gives like-minded readers a way to connect with some amazing authors and books that otherwise they may never hear about.
Based on the photos of you I’ve seen, it looks like you work out every day with steel girders in an abandoned warehouse and have murdered many people with your bare hands. So my question is, how much can you bench-press? Less importantly, how many people have you killed?
Ha! Well I can't put a number on how many people I've killed, or I could well find myself behind bars again. I do like to work out but lift surprisingly little. I think I've just discovered a way to make fat look like muscle from a distance.
When did you know you wanted to be a writer? Or were you—like me and so many others—forced to start writing at gunpoint after being kidnapped by an insane-asylum escapee who insisted you ghostwrite his children’s book?
Fortunately I seem to have evaded this asylum escapee so far, but I do get pitched biographies all of the time from people who have lived "fascinating" lives. Like many people, I always felt I did have a good book deep within me somewhere, but it wasn't until my first stint in prison that I seriously considered it, and then committed myself to writing.
Based on months of intensive research as well as your response to my previous question, I know you’ve spent some time in prison. Do you mind me asking what you were in for? How long? What did you use to bust out?
My crime against humanity was growing weed. Shocking, I know. For my first sentence, I spent only six months inside. I say only, but as each day feels like a month, it seemed a phenomenally long time. Obviously I didn't learn my lesson and was imprisoned again around five years later, and served 18 months. Again it might not seem a huge sentence, but around that period there were celebrities convicted on historic child abuse cases and got less time than I did. Maybe I'm not smart enough, but I couldn't understand how raping children was considered less of a crime than having cannabis plants.
What impact did incarceration have on your writing?
It may seem odd, but I found prison was a huge plus for my writing both times. A lot of The Elephant Tree was written in prison, and certain points in The Zombie Room were loosely based on my experience inside. Locked inside a tiny concrete box for over 23 hours a day, day after day after day after day, I guess you find something to occupy your mind or go nuts. Luckily I was already nuts, so I read and wrote the whole time instead.
What advice do you have for aspiring writers looking to get some good writing done inside or outside a penitentiary?
I think writing can be a hugely cathartic thing. So my advice would be just do it. Don't worry about is it good or not, just do it. If someone who does that finds they really enjoy it, then perhaps something on a professional level can come of that later. Just be prepared for a life of rejection, hardship and virtually no financial reward from it, ha.
Your debut novel The Elephant Tree made a nice splash when it came out in 2010, and has developed quite the cult following ever since. So my question is, are you in a cult?
My cult days are behind me now, but my beard is coming along well so maybe I'll form one some day. I was reasonably fortunate that The Elephant Tree was so widely embraced by readers across the globe. Not in colossal numbers, but enough to let me know that there is a real hunger for books that fall between the cracks of mainstream acceptability. That in itself was enough to spur me on, continue writing and continue seeking out and expanding reach on my target audience.
Your novel The Zombie Room also doesn’t suck. I don’t actually have a question, I simply wanted to tell you that. ... On second thought, I do have a question about The Zombie Room—a couple actually. First, why in the world would anyone in their right mind write a novel about sex trafficking? And secondly, which novel about sex trafficking do you feel is better—yours or mine?
Ha! Many thanks for that. There was initial interest from HBO—much like with your book The Exit Man—in bringing The Zombie Room to the small screen, but it didn't end up materializing. I did make a deliberate statement at the end of TZR that I knew critically I would be eviscerated for, but it's more about courage in writing and sticking to your own artistic integrity than it is about chasing ratings, so I'm proud of the book and what it meant to me.
It wasn't originally going to be about sex trafficking. The writing kind of developed a mind of its own and I let things take their natural course. Obviously it is a serious and ongoing issue in the world, and as such I had to do justice to the subject matter and do a lot of research.
As for which book is better, I think we both make significant contributions and readers should check out TZR and In Wolves Clothing and judge for themselves.
What do you like most about writing? What do you like least? (Feel free to go into great detail about the latter—people are used to reading lots of complaining on my blog.)
At times when writing, I can feel on top of the world. I'm not one of those writers that has a daily word count goal. I have days when I write x thousand words, then wake up the next day and bin them all. I have other days when I may only get out a sentence, but it is so perfect to what is integral to a scene, I feel it was a great achievement.
What I like least is probably confusion about the type of books—transgressive fiction—that I write. I've been condemned in reviews because my book wasn't like some bestseller they had just finished reading. The thing mainstream readers don't understand is that those are the kind of books we are sick of. Sure they have their place in the world, but I don't want to sound like James Patterson, or Lee Child, or hell, anyone else at all. I have my own voice and it's one I'm proud of. Not reading like a mainstream book is not a failure, it's a deliberate act to represent readers of the same mindset as me.
Who are some of your favorite authors?
Some of my favorite authors are unsurprisingly members of the transgressive fiction community. Irvine Welsh, Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis. But there are also authors who fit into this category who many won't have heard of: Rupert Thomson, Lili Anolik, Kelly Braffet. Of course it's vital to go back to read and reread classics from the likes of Bukowski, Burroughs, Orwell, and Huxley. I'm always hungry to discover new authors whose work I can fall in love with, so this list may well have changed a year from now.
Can you tell us a little about what you’re working on now?
Right now I'm working on my third novel, A Darkness So Unkind. I released The Zombie Room quite quickly after The Elephant Tree, and as proud of TZR as I am, there are things I would have done differently. I made the conscious decision long ago to not release my third book until I was utterly happy with it. It's been six years since my last release, and I'm very close to completion of A Darkness So Unkind. I hope my fans are hungry for this next one. It's undoubtedly better than anything I've done before. Leaps and bounds. I'm really excited about it and can't wait to release it into the wild.
That goes double for me and many others, R.D. Looking forward to reading it! I'll let you get back to writing it now. Thanks for taking the time to chat, and for giving my poor followers a break from my usual rambling, ranting blog posts. Best of luck to you and your books!
If you'd like to learn more about R.D.’s books and what he’s up to in the world, here are all the links you need to cyber-stalk him:
NOTE:For all you transgressive fiction fans, there’s a new website R.D. and I (but mostly R.D.) have been working on and are excited to tell you about. The site—a sort of “transgressive collective”—is still under construction, but will soon be loaded with awesome content that is laser-focused on darkly funny, daring and dangerous writing.
In addition to being the go-to place for transgressive readers, the site will serve as a powerful platform for transgressive authors—talented newbies and seasoned storytellers alike. Whether you’re working on your first or your fiftieth novel/short story, if you bleed intriguing transgressions on the page and would like to connect with smart readers and like-minded writers, give R.D. or me a shout.
I'll share a link to the aforementioned site once we deem it worthy of public viewing. In the meantime, let us know what (and who) you’d like to see on the site. We want it to be YOURS as much as it is ours (well, R.D.'s mostly).
They say you should write only for yourself. That you shouldn’t worry about others’ opinions and instead just write what’s inside you.
And they’re right … if you’re writing a diary.
If, however, you’re writing a novel, which can take a couple years and pints of blood to complete and publish, there’s a good chance you’re hoping folks will read it. And there’s an even better chance you’re hoping folks will like it.
The bad news is, most folks won’t read it. The worse news is, some of the folks who will read it won’t like it.
Fortunately, I’ve learned a great way to cope with the crushing defeat and the feelings of utter insignificance most authors commonly experience. My secret? I pretend everyone who ignores or dislikes my books is dead or insane. This enables me to remain deluded and to revel in the handful of readers who dig my books—the people who remind me why I keep at this crazy writing game.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t write merely for external validation. I write because I love the pure act of writing and creating, the euphoria I get from completing what I think is a solid chapter or page or paragraph. Still, few things feel as good as when—after you bust your hump to bring a 75,000-word story into the world—someone other than yourself or your own mother says the story captivated them. Brought them joy. Made them laugh. Helped them through a difficult time. Maybe even transformed them to some extent.
As much as I love writing novels, there are times when I think about quitting. Like when I’m struggling with a manuscript I’m working on. Or when I realize even my absolute best effort stands little chance of bringing me financial gain. Or when it hits me that every hour or day I spend with the imaginary people in my books is time spent away from actual people in my life. Or because I’m aware of all the big and real problems in the world, and know that me sitting alone in a room creating fiction isn’t doing much to fix things.
But it seems every time I’m about to throw in the towel and move on to do something I feel would be more productive and rewarding and selfless, some reader comes along and ruins everything with a positive and heartfelt review of one of my books. Something terribly enabling like:
“I finished In Wolves' Clothing a little over 24 hours ago and am still struggling to find the words to describe it, and to get it out of my mind. This is one of the best books I have ever read. I know that's lofty praise, but Greg Levin's ability to tell such a painful, horrible story and make it funny and inspirational deserve it.”
Or:
“As a cancer patient, I speak from a different perspective than most who will read this book. The humor and storyline are exquisitely delightful. Laugh-out-loud funny. I will read this again when I need a humor boost.”
Or an email saying:
“I lost my mother a little over a month ago. A few of my friends thought I should wait to read your book—given the subject matter. I wanted you to know that it was precisely the right book at the right time. A brilliant work of fiction that collided with an important time in my life. I loved your book, and my mother would have too.”
How in the hell am I ever supposed to leave writing behind and actually make something of myself if, on occasion—albeit rare–I receive such praise and encouragement?
Perhaps I need to start focusing on the haters and trolls a little more. You know, the folks who take time out of their busy schedule to send me email messages like:
“You are crap. Your books are crap. I hope you get a flesh-eating bacterial disease and die.”
Or who leave a one-star review like:
“Worst book I've ever read. Awful. If I could give no stars I would do that but I did not have that option.”
It could be the latter folks actually have my best interests in mind. (Well, okay, probably not the flesh-eating disease guy.) Could be they’re just trying to steer me in a direction that will be more beneficial to me and my family. Could be they’re actually members of my family.
But I know me, and I’m sure I’ll just continue pretending such haters are zombies and/or psychopaths, and that I’ll continue putting way more stock into what my three or four super-fans have to say. And that’s okay. Because honestly, whatever keeps a writer writing (or a singer singing or a painter painting or a dancer dancing) is okay.
I, myself, am a super-fan of several authors, and I’ve witnessed—and been surprised by—the effect that simple, honest praise can have on even famous writers … writers I’d assumed had become numb to all the compliments and accolades they’ve received from fans over the years. I recently reached out to a renowned author of dark yet powerfully poignant novels to let him know I’d just finished one of his books and that I regretted not having read it sooner. His reply:
“I've been pretty dejected about the industry for a while now, but meeting likeminded authors like yourself has invigorated my passion and determination to stick at what I believe in.”
Another author I greatly admire recently gave me the honor of reading the unfinished manuscript of his long-awaited next novel. Midway through the manuscript, I couldn’t resist emailing him to say it was shaping up to be the best book I’ve read in years. (And I wasn’t lying.) His reply:
“Much appreciated. I've been trying to psych myself up all day to make another run at the current chapter-in-progress, so your praise was well-timed.”
Point is, writers are so damn needy. (I don’t do emojis, but feel free to insert a winky-face one here. Moving on …)
I didn’t write this blog post to pander to readers or to fish for compliments on my writing. (I already have every positive review and message I’ve ever received printed out and taped to a cocktail glass, so don’t worry about me—I see praise every day.) Rather, I wrote this post to remind readers of the power they possess simply by being a reader. Yeah, that does sound like pandering, but bear with me.
As a reader, you have every author in the world at your mercy. And you don’t owe them anything. You don’t have to read their books. You don’t have to like their books. However, if you do read one and you like it and feel compelled to let them know but figure they’re too busy or important to care, believe me, they’re not.
Their words may have left you breathless, mesmerized, overjoyed. Their words may even have restored your faith in literature and humanity. But I’m telling you, your words are even more powerful. A couple sentences of yours can touch a writer far more deeply than a thousand sentences of theirs touched you. Because what you have to say might just be exactly what the author needs to hear to continue writing. To continue fighting. To continue leaving not only you but countless others breathless, mesmerized, overjoyed. Transformed.
And, in the event you do reach out to an author to share how much their book meant to you and they don’t respond, well, don’t sweat it. Just pretend they’re dead or insane. Chances are, you’ll be right.
A huge THANK YOU to all the readers who’ve ever given my words the time of day—and who’ve graced me and kept me going with theirs.
Good authors put absolutely everything they have into each book they write. The trouble with this is, when it comes time for them to make a public appearance, they usually have absolutely nothing left. They’re sapped of their physical and emotional strength, their authorial power and enthusiasm, their ability to arrive to the venue on time.
Add to this the fact that many writers are introverts, and you begin to see why live author readings are one of the leading cures for insomnia.
It doesn’t have to be this way. Hell, it shouldn’t be this way. Any author who’s good enough to be invited someplace to read to a crowd owes it to that crowd to bring—and to elicit—the same level of energy and excitement that went into the writing. Actually, they need to bring even more. The people in the audience gave up binge-watching Stranger Things and braved traffic and human contact to come to the event. They deserve to be dazzled, captivated, shocked.
So how can bookstores and event organizers ensure such excitement and entertainment at readings?
I have some ideas:
1) Force the author to read pages on fire.To be clear, the pages—not the author—should be on fire. It’s not only unsafe and unkind to set an author on fire, it’s illegal in some U.S. states.
Here’s how the pages-on-fire thing works: Several pages from the author’s book are printed out on standard 8.5 x 11 paper. The first page is lit at the top with a match or lighter and handed to the author, who then must read fast enough to stay ahead of the flames and to avoid second- or third-degree burns, but not so fast that they blur over any major plot points and confuse the audience.
I’ve seen this type of reading done before, and it’s a lot of fun. For the audience, anyway. It’s especially fun when the author giving the reading is a sloppy drunk, as the presence of ethanol on clothes/skin increases the chances that an ambulance and the local fire department will make an appearance. And what’s a reading event without ambulances and fire trucks?
2) Allow fights between the author and audience members. One thing that’s sadly lacking at most reading events is bloodshed. Sure, there’s the occasional exception, like when Stephen King’s fingers began to bleed during a signing in Seattle and he continued bandage-free for all the fans who were clamoring for authentic Stephen King blood on their book. (I’m not kidding.) But such invigorating trauma during author appearances is rare.
That can easily be changed. Bookstores and other venues could fill a ton of seats during readings simply by lowering security and allowing bored and disgruntled fans to throw solid objects at authors, or to rush the podium and tackle them. The venues could ratchet the fun up a few notches by not only allowing but also encouraging such melees to occur—maybe even taking bets from the crowd on who wins. To help ensure the author fights back tooth and nail (thus increasing the excitement even more), the venue could promise them a healthy cut of the earnings as well as a positive Amazon review from all in attendance if they win.
3) Have a stunt double do the reading. Even with the imminent threat of serious burns or beatings, some authors are simply too depressed and/or disassociated to spring to life at a public reading. A great way to fend against this and ensure the audience remains enthralled is to replace the author with a stunt double—someone who looks at least a little like the author’s bio photo and who isn’t afraid to do ridiculously risqué or dangerous things.
Studies have shown that people are 98 percent more likely to show up and stick around for a reading event when the reading is completed in the nude and/or while jumping out of a fourteenth-floor window. That number climbs to 100 percent if the author in question is Stephenie Meyer.
An added bonus: Because most stunt people are trained in some form of martial art, any attacks by disgruntled (or overly excited) fans are sure to result in the kinds of compound fractures that really captivate a crowd and turn a midlist author into an international mega-bestselling legend.
4) Let the author’s significant other have the podium.No matter how gripping or heartbreaking or inspiring a book is, nothing compares to listening to the wife, husband or partner of the person who wrote it talk about the fresh hell of living with an author. In fact, I’ll bet a candid rant by Tabitha King is ten times scarier than anything her spouse Stephen has ever written. (And she, too, is an author, which I’m sure only adds to the horror.)
Sure, an author’s significant other may initially act like they’re extremely proud and supportive of the demon they share a roof with. But if the venue serves alcohol, you could be in for a real treat, especially if the significant other is invited to say a few words after the reading. If they are not invited to do so, feel free to step up and invite them yourself. Just be sure to pat them down first.
5) Serve alcohol. Not only will alcohol help the author’s significant other come unhinged, it pretty much guarantees most of the otherthings suggested in this post will happen with no additional planning or preparation required.
Speaking of authors and reading and books, there's a big ebook giveaway being hosted by the good folks over at Authors XP. You can enter for a chance to win up to 35 crime/thriller ebooks! (It just so happens my latest novel, In Wolves’ Clothing, is among them.) To learn more about the giveaway, click HERE.
One of my favorite things to do when not writing dangerous novels is read them. (No, not my own—that would be weird to admit publicly.) I love sinking into the sofa and getting lost in good books chock full of bad. Books with characters you’d run from in real life but can’t resist rooting for on the page. Characters who do awful things for noble reasons. Characters who take crazy risks for what they feel is right.
Characters who punch you in the gut as they steal your heart—and who make you laugh as you bleed out.
You’ll find such appealingly unlikeable characters in books by the likes of Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis, Gillian Flynn, Irvine Welsh.
But I’m not here to talk about those authors. They don’t need me to. They’re already famous. Today I’d like to instead shine the spotlight on several lesser-known (but not lesser) writers whose fresh, gritty and in some cases hilarious fiction will knock you for a loop, or on your ass. Or both.
Brace for impact.
Mike McCrary. The first time I read Mike McCrary, I didn’t. He did. He was giving a reading from his darkly comical crime thriller Genuinely Dangerous at a “Noir at the Bar” event I was attending in Austin, and his words blazed the crowd, eliciting gasps and guffaws. My first thought was, “Is this guy that good, or am I just drunk?” And then, after listening to him read more, I realized both were true.
If you dig funny, fast-paced, enthralling neo-noir—and can handle it served with a generous portion of profanity—I highly recommend you give Genuinely Dangerous a go. Same goes for McCrary’s novel Steady Trouble as well as his audacious Remo Cobb series. You can get the first book of that series (Remo Went Rogue) for FREE simply by joining McCrary’s mailing list here. (Books this good shouldn’t be free, but Mike is just too damn nice a guy … despite what his novels may imply.)
Sarah M. Chen. Not many crime fiction authors write with as much fun, hardboiled flare as Sarah M. Chen does. And practically none of them can write with as much authority. Chen works as a private investigator assistant in and around her home city of Los Angeles. So when not busy concocting crimes, she’s helping to solve them. This would be like me working as a serial killer or drug-addicted sociopath when not busy writing. (Man, if only the latter one paid.)
Chen has had dozens of crime fiction short stories published, and her debut novella, Cleaning Up Finn (which one dazzled critic characterized as “West Coast restaurant noir”) was a finalist for the Anthony Award and the Lefty Award—both coveted prizes in the mystery/thriller world. The novella also earned Chen an Independent Publisher Book Award, a.k.a., an “IPPY.” (IPPYs are a big deal, and I’m not just saying that because I’ve won two of them.) This March, be on the lookout for The Night of the Flood, a highly anticipated “novel-in-stories” Chen contributed to and co-edited with the inimitable crime/mystery author E.A. Aymar.
Scott Kelly. Scott Kelly and I first met the same way most middle-aged white male novelists meet—at a late-night freestyle rap circle out front of the Texas State Capitol building. I was there to rap; Kelly was there to hand out copies of one of his books. It goes without saying we were both under the influence.
Even more intriguing than our “meet-cute” are Kelly’s novels, which can best be described as existential transgressive psychological thrillers. Okay, maybe that’s not how they’re best described since that was a real clunky bunch of words. (What do you want from me—I’m only a writer.) Suffice it to say Kelly’s books are great—dark, provocative and sardonically funny. I recommend starting with Keep the Ghost (the first book of his Keep the Ghost Trilogy). It’s a mesmerizing tale of “pseudocide,” which is the faking of one’s death to wipe the slate clean and start over as a new person. Something we’ve all fantasized about—especially those of us with children.
Jen Conley. Jen Conley is one of the best short story writers you’ve never read. Saying so may be a little presumptuous of me—and a little insulting to her (and her fans)—but I wanted to grab your attention ... the same way Conley’s fierce yet soulful tales of lonely hearts, stolen goods and broken bones will.
Her work has appeared in such notable publications as Thuglit, Crime Factory and Beat to a Pulp, to name just a few. If you’re a fan of short crime/noir fiction, you must check out her Anthony Award-nominated book, Cannibals: Stories from the Edge of the Pine Barrens. And if you’re not a fan of short crime/noir fiction, be careful—Cannibals will turn you into one.
Eryk Pruitt. If you like epic tales of good triumphing over evil, of true courage in the face of peril, and of love conquering all, you’re going to hate Eryk Pruitt.
If, on the other hand, you’re into reading about con artists, social media narcissists and aspiring serial killers who make bad choice after bad choice with the best intentions, then not only will you love Pruitt’s masterfully minimalist Southern noir, but also you and I can be best friends.
Pruitt’s latest novel, What We Reckon, is, according to author Joe R. Lansdale, "hardboiled honey packed with razor blades and dynamite, strange and leanly written, and tossed into a tornado; … a modern piece of folklore covered in gasoline and set on fire.”
Wow, my mother said the exact same thing after reading it. But don’t just take her (or Joe’s or my) word for it; go read What We Reckon—and Pruitt’s two other gloriously gritty books, Dirtbags and Hashtag.
I hope some or all of these authors have piqued your interest. If you decide to read (or have read) one of their books and like(d) it, let me know. More importantly, let the AUTHOR and everyone else know by writing a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
Who are some of your favorite writers you feel are “under the radar” and well-deserving of a larger readership? (Mom and Dad, you don't have to list me.)