PEEPSHOW -- By Leigh Redhead (Book Review)

Peepshow (Outfit Crime, 2009) is the first novel by Australian writer Leigh Redhead, and yes, that is her real name. It is the first of three novels featuring Detective/Stripper Simone Kirsch. Simone originally wanted to become a police officer, but her history of working in the sex industry saw her bumped from consideration, so she chose the next best thing: a private investigator's license.

Her PI career takes off with a boom when the owner of a local strip joint is murdered and Simone's best friend Chloe, a dancer at the club, is kidnapped. Simone makes a deal with the kidnappers; if she can find the real killer in two weeks, Chloe will be spared. Her investigation takes her in and out of rock clubs, strip clubs, fetish clubs, and onto the floor of a sex industry conference. Meanwhile she's dodging wise guys and crooked police, all while still having to earn enough of a living to make her rent.

Based on Ms. Redhead's true life biography, it is clear she is drawing from much personal experience in depicting the scenes of this book, and it shows in the level of detail. The story has strippers, sex, drugs, and rock n . . . er, mostly country music. And that's one of the things I loved about it! The fact that this book, by an Australian writer, references so much of the country music from my collection (Steve Earle, Vanessa Williams, Johnny Cash, et al) made it damn fun. And a scene toward the end where all these dive bar/strip club dwellers convene at an outside barbecue in broad daylight and how odd they look, to Simone, out of their element -- classic! It reminded me of the summer I helped my wife build a straw bale house in Tucson, AZ. The day of the wall raising -- when a couple truckloads of straw bales had to be stacked up in a shape resembling a dwelling -- several of her friends from the Tucson music community showed up dressed as they would for a night on the town. Redhead's description of her literary BBQ harkened back to this event from my own life so perfectly that I was grinning ear to ear.

The book is fast-paced, and if there are maybe a few too many coincidences moving the plot here and there, they are to be forgiven because the story is such a rollicking good time with so many memorable characters. Simone is an excellent lead and fun to spend time with. I enjoyed the Aussie slang employed throughout, and also liked to see the inner workings of the world of peep shows and strip clubs.

There are at least two more Simone Kirsch crime novels, and I'm hoping that The Outfit sees fit to reissue them as well.

TOWER -- by Ken Bruen and Reed Farrel Coleman (Book Review)

Tower (Busted Flush Press, 2009) is a story that caught me unaware. At the time I read it, I knew of the collaborating writers -- multi-award winners Ken Bruen and Reed Farrel Coleman -- but I had not read any of their work. As a result I had no expectations, but I was still taken by surprise by the emotional depth of this powerful little book. It's not just a guns-blazing crime book; it's that and much more.

Tower is the story of two friends, Nick and Todd. At its root is an examination of the bonds of friendship, loyalty, and trust, with a healthy does of love and loss to further muck things up. The two men grow up together on the streets of New York City (almost a character itself), where, for poor kids of questionable education, working for the local low rent crime boss may seem like the only way to earn any kind of meaningful living. The boys make their choices, and then try to live with them. What I enjoyed is the way these authors chose to collaborate. Each of them takes a character and we see their experiences framed by the writer's voice, an interesting, and effective, technique.

Nick, the Irish-American kid with an abusive father who drinks too much, is handled by Bruen, while Todd, the boy from a home where the father never got over the mother's suicide, is written by Coleman. The significantly different writing styles of each author lends a legitimacy to the story, because we see each perspective as truly different in every sense of the word. Certain events are viewed from the lense of each character, which makes for interesting reading.

Both men start down similar paths working for Boyle and Griffin, the local wiseguys, but their paths separate when Todd, unknown to Nick, is recruited by the cops to become an undercover agent for them. We see the troubles they face, their struggles with love and loss, and their inability to deal with both; Nick remains in New York City, while Todd faces hardships in Philly and Boston before returning home an undercover policeman charged with bringing down Nick's boss. Each struggles to learn who they really are, and seek redemption almost in spite of themselves. Somehow, through it all, they remain loyal to one another while facing terrible choices each has to make regarding the other.

This isn't a happy book, though it is fun in moments. Both writers bring a biting humor to their writing, and it pops up in almost inappropriate places. The authors do an excellent job of making us care for the characters, even secondary players that are on stage only briefly, but still make us care about the demons they face and what happens to them. There is a lot of pathos packed into this slim little book, and I enjoyed it immensely.

I was a little disappointed by the ending, but to say why would spoil the book. It is probably just me, because the end totally works . . . I just didn't care for it. Even so, I would recommend this book to anyone who likes a dark story with rich characters packed into a quick read that barely lets you take a breath, delivered in unique fashion by two excellent writers.

I Told You I Was a Stretch Runner!

I've mentioned a couple times that I was participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this year, and November was the big month. After getting behind big time, and coming into the last week with 25,000 words to go, I put the pedal to the metal and pulled it off. A day early even! Here's what you see when you log that final word count:

I feel pretty good about it, if I may say so myself. The book isn't actually finished; I figure it is going to top out around 70,000 or 80,000 words -- at least that is what I want to keep it to. And there are chapters I've written that need some serious reworking, and I have pages of notes of things I need to go back and change or add as the story has evolved, but that is part of the novel writing process. Part of mine, at least.

I went into this particular story with a theme, a couple characters, and an idea for what type of novel it would be. The plot has kind of unfurled itself as I've written. It's been fun, and one hell of a learning experience. I learned I am fully capable of getting my words in while traveling. I learned a couple thousand words a day ain't no big thing. I learned that when it needs to happen, I can get upwards of 5K and 6K (today I did almost 8K to bring it home) in a day. I also managed to make the gym most of these days, not totally alienate my family (Julia has been working on an equally time consuming project in its final days as well), and not terrorize the pets. Hell, today we took the dogs for a hike and I even cooked dinner. I even found the time to threaten Sid with all the violence it takes to keep him in line. Wins all around!

In the big picture, I know it isn't that big of a deal. If I'd spent the time I spent on this thing pursuing writing that would actually pay, it might have been better spent. Hell, I have 400 more words to write by noon tomorrow for the Independent that will likely pay me more than this project ever will (about enough to pay for the CDs I'm going to be reviewing), but I don't care. I created some characters I've grown fond of and a story that at least I am having fun with, and that's enough for me. At least for now. It's just nice sometimes to set a goal and actually nail the sucker.

In the Aftermath of the Destruction

Thanksgiving started for Julia and me on Wednesday night when we went and saw Fantastic Mr. Fox, the latest film from Wes Anderson. This movie was a blast. I really can't recommend it enough. I'm happy to see it kicking ass on Rotten Tomatoes too. The pity is that, ultimately, it won't get near the box office that that piece of shit Twilight movie will. Oh well.

The film was warm and funny all at once. There were parts I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Probably because some of the characters' spastic wild animal ways reminded me of our spastic wild jack russells, but still . . . it was just a great, great movie. It was perfect for the mood I was in and what I needed to see. My brain tends to get overloaded sometimes with all the awesome shit I think about (crushing enemies, rescuing damsels, rocking out with KISS-like magnificence, overthrowing evil overlords, that kind of thing), so it's good to escape now and then. There is an excellent piece on Wes Anderson and the movie in the November 2nd issue of the New Yorker that is well worth reading. I can't link it because it looks like it requires a subscription to see. But here's a quote:

“I wanted to make a children’s movie like some of the ones I grew up with,” Anderson said.

I think he nailed it. The whole stop motion thing is a welcome departure from all that hyper-computer animated stuff that I'm getting so tired of, to the point that I won't even go watch movies that are otherwise supposed to be good (will still probably rent UP at some point, though). Go see the Fantastic Mr. Fox.


We had a good Thanksgiving yesterday. I got up early and got in some writing, then Julia got up later and made some asparagus to take out to my folks' place, where the feast would be held. The dish she was making called for some pine nuts to be cooked some how or some way. Her mistake was in relying on me. She called back to my office, "Tell me when 7 minutes are up!" "Okay, yeah, no problem!"

10 minutes later, "The pine nuts are ruined!" Oops. Hey, I may fail in the watching-the-clock department, but when our house is attacked by a vicious gang of post-apocalyptic killers, she'll be glad I'm around to drive them off with their proverbial tails between their legs!

We had our feast out with my parents, one of my sisters, and three smelly teenagers that were thankfully banished to rooms other than the one I spent my time in (between my dad and my kid, I probably only got punched in the arm about 50 times; I took it, though, because only I can). Saw some of the hated Cowboys defeat the hated Raiders. Saw some of the hated Packers defeat the pitiable Lions. Didn't get to see the mighty Broncos crush the hated Giants though, but I did monitor that game online (we were home by then, alas, with no TV to watch it on). The feast was excellent, and I came home in pain. Julia worked on some sewing and I did some more writing, and we watched the first episode of season 5 of The Wire. Pretty bummed that this is the last season.

I stayed up later than Julia did, and when I went downstairs she was waking up from having been asleep. She said, "I was dreaming of this huge pecan pie and it looked so good, I was just starting to tear into that thing. When I woke up I realized I was chewing on the corner of the blanket!"

That's my girl. I hope everyone had a good holiday too!

If I Didn't Love You, You Wouldn't Feel Neglected

So it's been a week since I updated this thing, which is pretty lame, I know. Hey, I've been busy! I dug myself a hole earlier in the month on this National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) thing that I'm doing, and I've been devoting a bunch of time -- pretty much all of my "free" time -- to catching up. I'd like to blame the extra difficulty I've created for myself on the trips I took for work earlier this month (Houston, TX, and Fresno, CA) because I didn't write squat on either of them. But that's lame, because I certainly could have. I'm a stretch finisher anyway, and as the wire draws near I'm charging hard with a clear path to the finish line! I like to print each chapter as I finish it, because it gives me a tangible, physical object to show the work I've put in. Maybe that seems lame, but I find it helps a lot.

In case you're wondering, that really is a Fu Manchu t-shirt I'm wearing. I just received it in the mail along with the bitchin' colored vinyl of their new record that came out a few weeks ago, Signs of Infinite Power. This record has powered a number of workouts at the gym for me since its release. If you aren't hip to the mighty Fu, you best get hip. Now.

Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin

Last week I was in Chippewa Falls, WI. It's the third time I've been there. It's actually a nice little town, one of those places I figure, in a pinch, I could actually live. It's only a couple hours east of Minneapolis, and just a few from Madison, Milwaukee, Chicago, etc. Unfortunately it was a little too far on a short trip to go check THIS out, which was kind of disappointing. The trip was mainly a success because I proved to myself that I am fully capable of writing while traveling. I was able to crank out about 6000 words over three days, which isn't too shabby.

I had a couple hour layover in Minneapolis. The connecting flight was out on B concourse, which is where all the puddle jumpers go in and out of -- pretty far out of the way of everything else. Minneapolis has these "service center" areas throughout where you can actually set up at a desk with your laptop and get shit done. That makes it easy.

I set up and got right to work, which replaced my usual layover-in-Minneapolis-activity (i.e. scarfing down chips & salsa and/or eating the Big Mouth Burger at Chili's). At this end of the airport, which is pretty isolated, the service area was right on the main passageway instead of in a side room. I was sitting there with my headphones on hammering away at the keyboard, and people kept coming up and asking me questions. I got a little annoyed, then I realized they must have thought I was actually customer service because of the Service Center sign. Yeah, folks, standard issue customer service uniforms these days consist of a Clutch t-shirt. And it was all stuff that 2 minutes of self help could have resolved for them. I am of the opinion amateur travelers should be culled from the damn herd in situations like this.

I got to Chippewa Falls, and it was so nice I did a little drive-around to snap a few pictures. There is a creek that runs through town and it was still pretty, though not nearly as much as when all the trees are in bloom. Use your imagination and you can probably get an idea.

The Leinenkugel Brewery is in town, and its presence was felt everywhere. Lots of cool murals on brick walls. I love that stuff. It's too bad Missoula doesn't have more of that. Hell, we have some fantastic breweries here -- Kettlehouse, Big Sky, Bayern, for example -- that could use a little more love. But they aren't nearly as big, and I imagine Leinies is a bedrock employer for Chippewa Falls.

Downtown they already had their Christmas decorations up. You can see though that the downtown is still pretty vibrant. You can't say that about a lot of towns around this friggin' country, that's for sure.

This little roadside motel was near where I was staying. I love these old places. I wish I'd been staying there instead.

I got my work wrapped up on Thursday (the company I was working with this time makes fire pumps, fire trucks, shit like that) and headed home early Friday morning. Skipped Chili's again in Minneapolis and got some work done at a Service Center near the busier C concourse. No one hassled me this time.


The only downer is I was one person too far down the list to get my auto-upgrade to First Class on the flight from Minneapolis to Missoula. Northwest/Delta best make goddamn sure THAT doesn't happen again.

It Was Just Business

This time last week I was parked on my ass at the Missoula airport, waiting to get started on a quick trip to Fresno, CA, for work. Apparently Horizon Air was having computer problems at their main office in Portland or some such place, and none of their planes could get in the air. We waited on the plane for a while, then they let us back off. Of course, as soon as we got back inside they hustled us back on. "IT has finally resolved the problem," they said. Friggin' IT. I have a love/hate relationship with "information technology" that is grounded mostly in hate. And that grounding is based primarily on IT people who got their post-name alphabet certs out of a book and think they know everything already. Sons a bitches. . . .

I enjoy flying in these Q400 turboprops that Horizon uses. They are a smooth ride, and though they are small I never feel nearly as cramped as I do in the Canadair CRJ 700s that Delta uses (I think that is the model, I know they are Canadair).

By the time I made it to SeaTac Airport, I'd missed my direct connection to Fresno. A lot of flights were canceled due to the IT snafu. A queue was forming in front of the customer service desks for rebookings, and luckily I hit the terminal just where the line ended. This was the view via camera phone when I got situated. Long, but not too long.

By the time I got to the front of the line, I looked back and I swear that queue was running at least 1/4 of a mile down the terminal. I was happy I got in line when I did! I wasn't so happy though that the woman behind me had to call presumably everyone she knew and not only explain that she was having travel difficulties, but also a litany of health problems that really boiled down to her "need to drop 20-30 pounds."

Ultimately I ended up in Fresno several hours late and well after dark. What should have been about a 6-hour travel day was closer to 15. I did manage to read two books during all that waiting around: Tower by Ken Bruen and Reed Farrel Coleman; and Peepshow by Leigh Redhead. They were both awesome crime novels that I am going to try and put up actual reviews of yet this week. Another upside was there was a In & Out Burger just across the parking lot from my hotel, so I feasted, California style. The next morning I was greeted with this stunning view out my window; I can't decide which direction I like better.


Traffic was roaring up and down the highway all night long. I didn't mind it, actually. I usually run the fan for white noise, but couldn't figure out how to work the thing in this room, nor could I find a thermostat. I finally discovered, my last night there, that it was operated via remote control. Who ever heard of such a thing? I would have found it earlier because it was right next to the TV remote, but I never turned the TV on.

The trip was otherwise uneventful. The people I was working with I'd worked with before, down at a plant they have in Ontario (just outside LA). I'd have prefered going there again because Fresno is kind of a shithole. The facility (this company is in the irrigation business) was in a rough part of town -- graffiti tags everywhere. There was some spectacular urban blight and some beautiful murals too; I wanted to get some photos, but by the time I wrapped up for the day it was already dark out. That's what sucks about work travel this time of year.

Tomorrow I head for Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. Somewhat looking forward to it. It's a decent little town. I think this will be my 3rd trip or so out there. It is the home of Leinenkugel's Brewery. There may be a Leiny or two in my future for this week!

All this travel lately is putting a crimp in my NaNoWriMo writing project; I'm about 75,000 words behind, but still confident I can catch up by the end. I've been pretty committed to it when I'm at home, which is why I'm blogging right now instead of working on the friggin' thing.

If This Isn't Funny to You, You May Already Be Dead

She Makes the Action Happen

While I was buzzing around Houston last week, Julia was revving up for another art showing thing. A friend of ours opened a new store on East Main called Cat's Eye Designs. They're new in town, having just moved here from LA, though they are from Montana originally. The space is where the old Missoula Osprey office was, and then a skateboard shop followed that. Anyway, Julia was asked if she wanted to have her paintings up for First Friday, and then for the rest of the month. And yes, if I weren't so lame I would have announced it BEFORE it all went down, but that's how I am, I guess.

So while I was away she wrapped up her new painting, La Tigresa, and then took them all down and got them up on the wall. I think they look awesome against the brick backdrop.

And here is the finished version of La Tigresa.

Another angle.

Here's a shot of the artist herself admiring her handiwork (and creating little tags for the paintings).

Hey, wait a minute . . . what is that little creature at her feet?

It's Roxie the Store Mascot!

Julia is dying to set up a play date between Roxie and Darla. Darla is game, as long as Roxie understands who really knows how to rock a comfy chair.

Roxie was quite the attraction to everyone.

I thought this particular art creation was awesome. Love the choices made for the record covers to show.

As the evening progressed, the place filled up pretty well at times.

I really enjoyed being the guy on the sidelines, watching people take in Julia's work, ask questions, etc. I probably don't mention enough how much of an inspiration she is to me with all of the creative things she does. I mean she is always busy doing something artistic -- clothes, art, dancing, music -- and it really infuses the household with art. I'm pretty lucky that way. I admire her tremendously.

Dead to Me

My friend Rebecca sent me this link this morning from AVCLUB.COM, which I appreciate because now I don't need to go dig up the articles I read yesterday. Here's the dirt:

Stuff My Dad Says?: CBS picks up beloved Twitter feed for sitcom deal

by Noel Murray November 10, 2009

A month ago, 29-year-old Maxim.com editor Justin Halpern landed a book deal for his popular Twitter feed shitmydadsays, on which he dumps the irascible, profane mutterings of his 73-year-old father. Now CBS has signed a deal with Halpern to develop a sitcom based on the feed, with the help of Will & Grace creators David Kohan and Max Mutchnick. The project is still in the script-development phase, which means casting, shooting a pilot, ordering a series and changing the name are still a long way off. Still... a show based on a Twitter feed. That's where we are.

Normally, I'd think this was a good thing. But I feel betrayed. I thought this thing, which I've reference more than once on this very blog, was the work of just some "normal" 28yo guy living with his parents. Learning the guy is a Maxim.com editor really triggers my bullshit detector. Is it just me, or is the whole thing feeling even more contrived than it did all along?

There. I just unfollowed him. I sure showed him! Take that Maxim.com, you villain!

Murdered in Houston

Last week I had to make a last minute trip to Houston, TX. I wasn't too happy about it initially, because it was one of those things that come up on a Friday when the whole next week is chock full of hilarity and excitement, and those plans then get hosed. But I sucked it up and decided to make the best of it.

Somehow over the last few months during my binge on crime fiction I came across Murder by the Book, which, conveniently, is located in Houston. I decided I'd make sure and find time to visit while I was there. While I was between flights in Minneapolis, I logged onto my twitter account and there was an update from them that caught my attention:

Since I knew they are generally open only until 6:00, and I had no idea what my work schedule would be, the fact they would be open later for the reading seemed like a perfect opportunity to head downtown the moment I arrived. So that's what I did -- got my rental car and made the drive from the airport to their store on the other side of downtown. I actually enjoyed the drive, despite the traffic I blundered into. After leaving the frost of Missoula, it was great to cruise down the highway with the windows down. I made it just in time.

Things were just getting started for the reading, so I didn't get to look around much at first. Just inside the door, though, was this rack of awesomeness (I'm a huge fan of the Hard Case Crime stuff; Christa Faust's novel for them, Money Shot, was one of those books that really blew the door open for me when it comes to this kind of fiction):

I had not heard of Lucha Corpi before the reading, but I really enjoyed her. Her book Death at Solstice is the 4th installment featuring her Chicana detective Gloria Damasco. It is published by Arte Publico Press, which is also based in Houston. I particularly enjoyed her anecdotes about the research she did for the book -- including trips to a casino and a seance experience -- and how she had to justify the receipts when the IRS came knocking. I haven't read the book yet, but I have a signed copy. And I have to say this was the first time an author ever hugged me after signing my book.

After the reading, I met David Thompson, the publisher behind Busted Flush Press. He's put out some great books. His wife McKenna owns the store. Another member of the family was on patrol as well, but I didn't catch her name.

We had a great, if brief, conversation, exchanged cards, etc. David loaded me down with a few more books on top of what I was already getting, then invited me back Thursday night for another reading. Then it was back north to check into my hotel and prepare for the "real" reason I was in Houston. Here's the obligatory shot out my hotel window, taken the next morning, as well as the fine establishment just outside where I indulged in a true breakfast of champions.

Mmmm, convenience store breakfast. I've been craving one of these little bastards ever since I saw Zombieland!

As for the work-related part of the trip . . . I'll just say it sucked. Last minute is never a good omen. And the bigger the company is, the more of a clusterfuck it will turn out to be. Good thing you don't come here to learn about my stupid day job.

Thursday night I was back to Murder by the Book for another reading. This one featured Susan Kandel, author of Dial "H" for Hitchcock. It also featured a talk by Dan Sneed, Houston's resident expert on Alfred Hitchcock. It was interesting; Sneed talked about Hitchcock's influence as a filmmaker, some of his cornerstone techniques, the artwork, the "cool blonde" archetype, etc. Then he turned it over to Kandel, who actually did a powerpoint presentation discussing her books, her main character, and the research she did into Hitchcock for the book. It was very entertaining -- I came away wanting to revisit the classic Hitchcock films. It was different from any other reading/signing I've been to, and I thought it was pretty cool.

After the reading, I looked around some more, picked up a couple more of David's suggestions (how do you pass on a book whose opening line reads "Chase's first day on the job they took the sobbing chauffer out back, gutted him, then handed Chase the cap and the little white gloves"?)(that first line courtesy of The Coldest Mile by Tom Piccirilli, I might add), and basically just lusted over a store full of titles I'd happily have in my reading queue.

All in all I bought way too many books, and it barely all fit in my suitcase. But what the hell -- I'll read them all, eventually.

The next morning I was up bright and (too) early and at the airport for the flight home.

It turned out to be an awesome trip. Met some great people, and actually look forward to going back to Houston. Who knows, maybe my work will appear under the Busted Flush banner one day.

Speaking of which -- I know I link books I talk about to Amazon, but I do that just for the purpose of providing a little more info about them. Please avoid buying from those sons a bitches whenever possible, though. If your local indie shop doesn't carry something, they can probably order it. And all of the books I mentioned in this post can be ordered directly from Murder by the Book -- autographed copies too. So do that, and the odds of your eternal soul rotting forever in the deepest cess pools of the abyss will be greatly reduced. Trust me.