If it bothers you that you were not among the lucky souls able to attend last weekend’s online Bodies from the Library conference — and bother you it should, Bodies is always a great day out — some good news!Continue reading
No, this is not a review of Cain’s Jawbone (1934) by Torquemada, a.k.a. Edward Powys Mathers. In order to review it, I must first read it, and reading it presents a difficulty as many of you will be aware…
Here we are at last: the second (and final) Theodore Roscoe novel which I have been involved in republishing with the wonderful people at Bold Venture Press is now available to buy!
As I may have mentioned before, thanks to the wonderful people at Bold Venture Press I was, ahem, involved in the republication of Theodore Roscoe’s 1935 impossible crime zombie uprising novel Murder on the Way!.
Last year, I put up this post lamenting the dearth of classic-era detective fiction, and then one claiming that I was going to try and do something about this. And then things went quiet. Very quiet. Almost too quiet, wouldn’t you say?
Well, see, that’s because I was working at trying to making it happen. And the result of that work is this: Bold Venture Press will be republishing two impossible crime novels by Theodore Roscoe — Murder on the Way! (1935) and I’ll Grind Their Bones (1936) — over the next couple of months or so, with yours truly having edited and prepared the texts for publication as well as writing introductions for each book.
In a post from a little while ago about authors unexpectedly having recycled ideas in their novels from other sources, mention was made of the Norwegian writer Sven Elvestad’s novel Jernvognen (1909), published under the pseudonym Stein Riverton, the solution of which was…heavily borrowed for a famous novel of detection in the 1920s (and, in fact, another in the 1960s…hint hint…though no-one thought to mention that). The novel in question is rather explicitly mentioned in the comments, so, y’know, beware spoilers.
Whether Christmas is your thing or not, I hope everyone has a relaxed, happy, restful, and caring period of calm at the heart of this festive season. It’s great fun discussing books here (and elsewhere) with all y’all, and I wish for you all a solicitous few days to ensure you’re taking care of yourselves out there.
And then get back reading, dudes. There’s still so much to talk about…
Merry Christmas, everybody; see you soon.
Half a lifetime ago, I put up this post looking at the consistency of language across the Sherlock Holmes canon, and for my first post today in celebration of John Dickson Carr’s 110th birthday — a second post will be going up later today, then a round-up of the posts I’m kinda just trusting that other people are doing will go up this evening — I thought I’d utilise a similar approach to analyse an aspect of Carr’s writing that is often much-discussed: his use of atmosphere.
Since reading Max Afford’s radio-set mystery The Dead Are Blind, I’ve had a new-found appreciation for the art of creating radio drama, especially during the age when radio held such a huge sway in the homes of most people. My interest in detective fiction from this era inevitably lead to some passing awareness of the serials produced at this time, but Afford’s novel really brought home the level of technical expertise required to produce something so much more complex than simply four people sitting at a microphone with a script.