Mysterious Matters: Mystery Publishing Demystified

A Tribute to the Grand Masters

To do my job, I feel that I have to keep one foot planted in the past and one planted in the future, with the rest of my body in that ill-defined space called "the present."

So, while I do my best to keep up with what's being published and what's succeeding (as well as what isn't), I like to revisit the greats. 

The first Grand Master award for lifetime achievement was bestowed by the Mystery Writers of America on Agatha Christie in 1955. The three most recent recipients have been Dorothy Gilman (2010), Sara Paretsky (2011), and Martha Grimes (2012).

Something I really like and respect about the Grand Master award is that it has been earned. Unlike so many other awards in the various industries (film, publishing, etc.), the Grand Master award is bestowed with care - or at least it has always seemed to me. Reading over the entire list of recipients, it's hard to see anyone who doesn't seem worthy, though there are a few whose links to mystery seem more tenuous (Graham Greene in 1976, John Le Carre in 1984, Daphne du Maurier in 1978, Stephen King in 2007).

More sad, for me at least, is the number of writers on the Grand Masters list who are out of print or receive very little "press" or chatter. I've waxed rhapsodic about Margaret Millar (1983's Grand Master) in the past and tried via Mysterious Matters to get at least a few more people to look for her books. 

I haven't read ALL of the Grand Masters yet, but I plan to do, sometime between now and the time I die. Here are a few books I've read recently by the Grand Masters (with some Agathovian observations). The full list of Grand Masters can be found on Wikipedia at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mystery_Writers_of_America.

1. GEORGE HARMON COXE (1964 Grand Master), Moment of Violence.

When I first picked up this book, the title seemed very Dell Shannonesque, and I was expecting a police procedural. Truthfully, I did not know much about Coxe; he seemed to be quite respected in his time, but I believe all of his books are out of print. Moment of Violence is what I call a straight-out mystery. The attorney protag, David Payne, flies down to Barbados to help out his former mentor, who is about to be cheated out of a valuable property. Upon arrival, he finds a body - and the investigation proceeds from there, in a very tight 190 pages. Coxe isn't a stylist, but he does make good use of the femme fatale who was so essential to the earliest detective stories. There's very little fat here: Just a solid mystery, good detection, and minimalist description. I enjoyed the book but would have to read more Coxe to formulate an opinion. 

2. DOROTHY B. HUGHES (1978 Grand Master), A Fine and Private Place.

Hughes was very respected in her day, and her talent is on display in A Fine and Private Place. (I also like The Davidian Report, but am less of a fan of Ride the Pink Horse, which I find very s-l-o-w.)  Crazed psychos have become a fairly large part of the modern mystery/thriller population, but I don't think the earlier practitioners of the craft had the vocabulary we have to describe a certain type of person. But in In a Lonely Place (1947) Hughes wrote a very fine portrait of a sociopath and the forces of the law closing in on him. The books holds up very well, and I hope some readers of Mysterious Matters will consider going to Amazon or the local library and finding a Hughes to curl up with.

3. STANLEY ELLIN (1981 Grand Master), House of Cards.

A one-time president of MWA, Ellin was also a strong writer in his own right. Some of my favorites of his include House of Cards, Very Old Money, and Mirror, Mirror on the Wall.  Like Margaret Millar, Ellin never wrote the same book twice; the books can be long and expansive (House of Cards) or short and disturbing (Mirror, Mirror). 

Truthfully, there are some names on the Grand Master list with which I have zero acquaintance: Vincent Starrett (1958), Baynard Kendrick (1967), Aaron Marc Stein (1979), Edward D. Hoch (2001 - I believe he is more known for his short stories than for novels; and short stories are not my strong suit). Sometime between now and death, I'll find something of theirs to read.

Looking at the list, though, one can't help but notice some really glaring omissions. For example, where is Charlotte Armstrong? Elisabeth Sanxay Holding? Margery Allingham? Henry Holt? Leslie Charteris? Celia Fremlin? If practitioners of the Gothic are included (Phyllis Whitney and Daphne du Maurier are on the list), then shouldn't Mary Stewart also be honored? How about Cornell Woolrich, Andrew Vachss? Doubtless we all have favorites with prodigious output whom we'd like to see honored. 

 

 

 

 

I Am a Book Person

I am a book person.

It's not that I'm against Kindles, Nooks, and the like. I understand why people like them.

But at the end of the day, I want to curl up with a good book, not a computer.

I stare at a computer screen for much of my day. I don't want to do it at night.

I like the books on my bookshelf. Often, I can pick one up and remember what was going on in my life at the time I first read it.

I appreciate the art of the book, and how everything (typeface, cover, the entire package) fits together. There's a sense of permanence there. For me, an ebook is gone as soon as the last character is read.

I like the quality-control process that most printed books have gone through. 

Books take up too much space in my house and my office. But if they didn't, other stuff would take their place. And it would be junk. Books are never (well, almost never) junk.

I like buying books. So much value for so little money. They are my "retail therapy." And they don't break the bank.

I'd never read a "free" ebook. If a book has gone out of print, I'd rather look around for a used hard copy than read it on an ebook reader. So even though I'd buy it new if it were still in print, I know there's a copy of it available SOMEWHERE. Thank God.

There's a tactile sensation to the book that I like. With a hardcover, I like the feeling of strength. With a trade paperback, I like the feeling of flexibility and portability. With a mass-market paperback, I like the feeling of being in touch with an editor's idea of what "The Reader" is interested in reading.

I think the "death of the book" has been greatly exaggerated. At Barnes & Noble, the kids' section is usually overflowing with kids. A new generation of readers is growing up with books, and they won't be giving them up.

We'll have fewer retail outlets selling books. Can't deny that - but we'll also have fewer retail outlets selling appliances, clothing, and so forth. We'll adapt, just the way the movie and TV industries adapted to VHS tapes and DVDs.

Books have always been an escape. They're even more of an escape now, when the average person is wired 24 hours a day, answering instant messages while having sex or on the toilet. I don't think I'm the only one who wants to disconnect from a bright, glowing screen. 

[Note: This blog entry is just a set of notes from a speech I was scheduled to give last year. I came across them and realized I haven't changed my mind about anything over the last year, and I don't think I'll change my mind in the near future, either.]

Top 5 List: Reasons to Read

Looking over my last post, it occurs to me that I didn't mention "readers' advocate" as one one of the top challenges of my job. I think that's because it undergirds everything else I do. Because commercial success is built on readers' opinions (especially on word of mouth), readers' reaction to a book is always uppermost in my mind. Of course, there are many types of readers; and, of course, the publisher's greatest joy is publishing a book that even non-readers pick up and read, just because they want to see what all the fuss is about.

So, with all this in mind, I've been thinking about the reasons people read. This won't come as a surprise/shock to any of those who read this blog on any sort of regular basis - but maybe this post would be good for forwarding to non-readers to help them understand what their missing.

All right, then, why do readers read?

1. To escape. Let's face it, the world is a stressful place, and even those who should help us relax (family, friends) often add to the stress levels. There's nothing like cocooning with a good book. This is why one of the key (but hard-to-define other than "I know it when I see it") things I look for in a manuscript is the author's ability to completely absorb the reader. The kind of book I like is one that demands the reader sit and gulp down a hundred pages at a time. (I say this because, during my nightly reading time, I usually begin to fatigue at about 75 pages. But a really good book pushes me to page 100 and beyond.) I just wish that those who follow TV series (to the exclusion of reading) would give books a chance to show what they can do. And I think there are "gateway" books that do bridge this gap. I'm thinking of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Da Vinci Code, the Twilight books, the Hunger Games books, the Harry Potter books -- all, I think, have helped introduce reading to non-readers of all ages.     

2. To learn. I recently read a nonfiction book about how much of his/her college education the typical college graduate "uses" in real life. The answer, not surprisingly, was "not very much." But I do think people with curious minds like to keep learning, to keep experiencing new things. Magazines and books both accomplish this; and recent difficulties in the magazine and newspaper business make me wish that their business model wasn't built on advertisements. And learning can be a great part of fiction, where readers can learn about new places, history, hobbies, professions, and so forth. When all of this takes place within a novel (as compared to, say, a textbook), the phenomenon is sort of a "stealth" learning that is absorbed rather than crammed down one's throat.  

3. To relax and fall asleep. I've been reading a lot lately about the sleep issues Americans have. Whom do I blame? The Internet. Plenty of research has shown that the light given off by screens has a stimulating effect, so playing around on the Internet before bed is a bad idea. And yet how many people do we know who are on their computers (or smart phones) all their waking hours? Research is showing just how relaxing reading is - how it is the perfect nighttime activity to wind down from the day. (In contrast, TV, with its noise, its light, its action, has the same effect as a computer). I think a lot of people guard their nightttime reading time quite closely because they understand how useful it is to them not only intellectually but physiologically. (Of course, there's a difference between using a book to relax and reading a book that puts you to sleep!)

4. To be part of a community. Recent years have seen the growth of book clubs; and the Internet is full of listservs, blogs, and so forth that help people connect with one another. I wish I had the time to do more of this sort of thing - I need to know what readers are saying and thinking, what turns them on and what turns them off. My wife and I tend to have only about 20% overlap in what we read, and then there's usually a lag. There's nothing like being able to engage in a conversation about a book as soon as one has read it, which is why I usually run to Amazon after I've turned the last page, to see what others have said about it. That could be considered a conversation in a way, I think. (Unfortunately, I can't post reviews, as I would want to be honest, and I can find a good deal to critique in many of the books I read, most of which I'd probably give 3 stars.)

Those four points are the bright/sunny side of reading. However, there is a dark side, specifically:

5. To feel superior. I admit it: I'm not a fan of literary fiction. Yes, it has its place. But it doesn't sell, and it makes very few writers into household names. I see a lot of Amazon Vine reviewers who seem to use their reviews as a place to put writers and publishers down; and there are certain review sites that seem to have that same goal. I'm all for honest criticism, but I do draw the line at nastiness for the sake of nastiness (though who's going to listen to me?) I think this is a real problem in terms of the big houses and agencies these days: They say they want best-sellers, but they turn their noses up at the mass-market fiction. Then, of course, there's the New York Times, in which Ivy Leaguers review books by other Ivy Leaguers, which are then purchased (but not read) by other Ivy Leaguers. It's all so incestuous and ridiculous.  There's nothing wrong with escapist genre fiction, but our more serious review engines refuse to recognize that. They see reading (or their choice of reading materials) as a way to demonstrate the superiority of their taste and educations. Let them have it, I say; others can publish it, while I try to make best-sellers.  

An anecdote about this last point: The late, great Charlotte Armstrong once found herself at a party, and she met a woman who asked what she did. Charlotte replied, "I'm a novelist." "What do you write?" asked the woman. Charlotte responded, "Mysteries." The woman replied, "Oh, I don't even have the time to read good books."