Thursday, November 28, 2019
Monday, November 18, 2019
No Comment: "Save the Last Dance for Me"
“Sometimes, something
happens that you can’t forgive. And it kills you because you can’t forgive. You
drag it along with you your whole life and remember it at odd moments and no
matter how old you get, that one thing still retains its fresh and vital pain.
And a part of you knows that the other person has gone on and probably never
thinks about it at all.”
—Ed Gorman, Save the Last Dance for Me. Worldwide Mystery, 2003 (© 2002); Page 217.
[No Comment is a
series of posts featuring passages that caught my attention. It may be the
idea, the texture, or the presence that grabbed my eye. There is no analysis
provided, and it invariably is out of context]
Monday, November 11, 2019
Thrift Shop Book Covers: "The Fall Line"
The Fall Line,
by Mark T. Sullivan, was published in hardcover by Kensington in 1994, but the
edition that caught my eye is the Pinnacle paperback published in 1995. The pastels
are from the official 1990s color palette and I’m not sure what’s happening
with the skier, but it’s something good. The artist: Unknown (to me at least)
The first paragraph:
The Fall Line is Mark Sullivan’s first published novel and its setting is as appealing to me as the cover. I’ve spent the majority of my life in the Wasatch Mountains’ shadows. I can be at Alta in 25 minutes from my doorstep and at the top of the other Cottonwood, Big Cottonwood, in about the same. And the snow, it’s uniquely dry and light. The best snow I’ve ever skied, but I’m biased since it’s been my snow since I was a child.
The first paragraph:
Out West, winter storms
begin as collisions of cold and warm air in the Gulf of Alaska. The two battle
for control, cold winning, then racing southeast to land, across coastal
mountain ranges to the deserts of the Great Basin. There the fronts accelerate
and gather fury, boiling high over the purple sage and the brine flats until
they draw one last infusion of moisture crossing Utah’s Great Salt Lake and
then slam into the chill, nearly vertical wall of the Wasatch Mountains. One
canyon, the Little Cottonwood, seems to suck the dark storm clouds into itself,
up its nine-mile rip, up 8,000 feet to the half-dozen peaks and ridges that
form the series of alpine bowls called Alta. Trapped by the jagged crags and
frozen cirques, the clouds are squeezed as if by a giant hand milking udders
and a snow like no other falls.
The Fall Line is Mark Sullivan’s first published novel and its setting is as appealing to me as the cover. I’ve spent the majority of my life in the Wasatch Mountains’ shadows. I can be at Alta in 25 minutes from my doorstep and at the top of the other Cottonwood, Big Cottonwood, in about the same. And the snow, it’s uniquely dry and light. The best snow I’ve ever skied, but I’m biased since it’s been my snow since I was a child.
Sunday, November 03, 2019
MISSING AT TENOCLOCK by Arthur Williams (Jack M. Bickham)
Missing at Tenoclock (1994),
as by Arthur Williams—a one-off pseudonym of the prolific and reliably good
Jack M. Bickham—is the first of the two Jonelle “Johnny” Baker mysteries set in
the fictional Colorado mountain town of Tenoclock. Tenoclock is a tourist boom
town with enough celebrity landowners to make it a small and growing version of
Vail. There ski lifts, daily old west-style shootouts on its hokey and touristy
downtown streets, too, but for all its growth the Sheriff’s Office is still a
small operation that usually closes its doors by midnight.
Then
Sheriff Jim Way has a gruesome accident with a train; the engineer doesn’t see
him lying across the tracks until it is too late. Way’s clothes are saturated
with whiskey—a high shelf bottle of Maker’s Mark was found on the front
seat of his Bronco—and Tenoclock’s political leaders go into high gear to sell
Way’s death as a side-effect of his heavy drinking. But Johnny, who is
appointed acting-Sheriff as a publicity stunt by the county commissioners,
believes Way’s death wasn’t an accident. She knew Way didn’t drink heavily
enough to pass out on a cold autumn night, and he never drank expensive
whiskey. In the background is a missing runaway girl, and as Johnny
investigates she gets an uneasy feeling the missing girl and Way’s death are connected.
Missing at Tenoclock
is a traditional mystery with several beautifully crafted and suspenseful
action scenes. There is a scene where a major player is trapped in an old mine
that remains in the reader's mind long after the incident is resolved. The
mystery is somewhat light since it is clear who the villain is early in the
story, but Bickham does an exceptional job of ratcheting the suspense by slowly
revealing the how and the why of both Way’s death and what happened to the
missing woman. It doesn’t hurt that Johnnie gets in deeper trouble with every
step she takes. The setting is perfectly small-town with oddball characters—a
scholarly jailer and grumpy diner owner comes to mind—and small minded and greedy
politicians. Missing at Tenoclock is a title to keep a lookout for in
used book shops and thrift stores, especially if you enjoy a light mystery with
a pleasant setting and likable characters.
The
second (and final) Johnnie Baker mystery novel is titled Tenoclock Scholar (1995),
and it, like Missing at Tenoclock was published by Walker & Company
as a hardcover and neither book was ever published in paperback. An oddity
between the two novels: Missing at Tenoclock, was published as by Arthur
Williams and Tenoclock Scholar was published with another Bickham
pseudonym, John Miles.
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