The authors I keep giving money to

It's easy to give a mediocre book a three or four star rating and move on. I do it all the time. I don't want to tank anybody's average. A truer test of how much I like an author is whether I repeatedly trade cash for his or her books. In my library of paperback crime, here are the writers who have the most shelf space:

Six books: James Ellroy, Elmore Leonard, Raymond Chandler

I can't imagine I'd get much argument if I said these three were the holy trinity of American crime.

Five books: George Pelecanos, Massimo Carlotto

I'm not sure quite why I keep buying Massimo Carlotto. One of his protagonists is disgusting and the other is dull. But his matter-of-fact tales of perversion, corruption and treachery hooked me so hard I once read three of his books back-to-back-to-back.

Four books: Duane Swierczynski, Sjowall & Walloo, Gene Kerrigan

I'd buy more Gene Kerrigan books if he'd write more! The Rage is a breathtakingly intimate study of low-level gangster violence. And the Midnight Choir is epic story-weaving on the level of The Wire, with the most devastating ending of any book I've ever read.

Three books: Joe R. Lansdale, George V. Higgins, Richard Stark, Dennis Lehane, Paul Auster

I would almost certainly have more Dennis Lehane books if they hadn't all been made into movies. He's a good writer. I just know how most of his stories are going to end.

[Ed. - For more ideas on what to read, check on my Amazon list 11 Crime Writing Cornerstones.]

Why I'll never write the great American novel

Read Boyos and came across this sentence:

Kevin hit the trunk release button on the keychain he pulled from his pocket, and the rear door of the Eldorado sprang open.

And I thought, if I was writing this book, I'd have written it like so:

Kevin pulled his keys and popped the hatch.

It's not that I didn't like Boyos. I did. In fact, I loved it. If you like The Friends of Eddie Coyle and tales of low-level robbers, you will too.

But in that moment, it became clear to me why I can't seem to write a book more than 40,000 words long. (The Owl & Raccoon novellas clock in at 18,000. Regret Things is right about 40,000.) Twenty years in advertising may have made me a better writer, but they've left me incapable of fluff. My books are short because I can't bring myself to use more words than I have to.

As the punk guys used to say, "If your song isn't over in three minutes, you need to play it faster."

[Ed. - Want to see what I mean? Go buy Thrilling Thirteen: Vol. 2. For just $0.99, you get my neo-western noir Sin Walks Into The Desert. And 12 more books from other authors, from cozy culinary mysteries to hard boiled police procedurals. Guaranteed you'll find one you're into.]