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Booked (and Printed) January 2026 Wowzers,
January was frigid! If the mercury inched above freezing it was a fleeting
affair. The negative temps piled up as quickly as my firewood dwindled. Although
it made for a perfect reading month. And I did okay with four books, a
solitary short story, and two philosophical essays by the brilliant Bertrand
Russell. But my left eye is still a roadblock: I can’t read for as long as I
once did and my reading speed has suffered, too. But let’s stop with the
whining and get to what I did read. The month started with Michael Richards’s
fabulous memoir, ENTRANCES AND EXITS
(2024). Richards, of course, is best known for his unforgettable performance
as Cosmo Kramer on that most ’90s of the 1990s television scene, Seinfeld.
Richards doesn’t mire his story with name-dropping or “look how brilliant I
am” vignettes. Instead, he reveals himself as a flawed introvert seeking
redemption and understanding—his understanding about himself and this life
we all share. Entrances and Exits is exactly how a memoir should be
written: with thoughtfulness and truth. Next
up was another memoir, THE PULP JUNGLE, by Frank
Gruber (1967). Gruber made a living, and I’m guessing a good living, writing
for the pulps in the 1930s and early-1940s before moving to Hollywood. IMDb
shows an impressive 55 writing credits, mostly for television, between 1939
and 1968. In The Pulp Jungle, he (mostly) discusses his early years breaking
into the pulps, including moving to New York City with the ambition of
writing fiction for a living. Gruber succeeded, but the journey was harrowing. There are stories about Steve Fisher—perhaps Gruber’s best friend—Frederick
Faust, aka Max Brand, who he worked with in Hollywood, and a bunch of others,
too. The Pulp Jungle is a solid memoir with enough inside dope to
interest anyone interested in the pulps. |
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DOWN INTO THE SEA, by
Dan Franklin (2024), is an uneven horror novella with a rich atmosphere and a
flawed plot. Fourteen-year-old Eric Ross’s life is a mess. His mother is an
addict. His father is in prison. And Eric is bullied at school and looking
for an escape. That escape arrives as a mermaid swimming under the pier of
his small Massachusetts hometown. But everything crashes when people start
dying. I didn’t love Down Into the Sea, but it showed enough life that
I’ll likely try another of Franklin’s tales sometime soon. January ended with Robert J. Ray’s first (of
seven) Matt Murdock mystery, BLOODY MURDOCK
(1986). This was my third reading of Bloody Murdock and it’s a book I’m a tad sentimental about since I first read it over Christmas break as a middle schooler.
It begins with Murdock taking a bodyguard gig, but it quickly turns into a murder
investigation after his client awkwardly dies. I had fun from the first page
to the last. Murdock is a P.I. with a dash of 20th Century men’s
adventure thrown in for good measure. It was also my introduction to the
private eye form. With a little luck I’ll read it again in ten or fifteen
years. As for those two Bertrand Russell essays. The
first is “WHY I AM NOT A CHRISTIAN”
(1927), and the second is “HAS RELIGION
MADE USEFUL CONTRIBUTIONS TO CIVILIZATION?” (1930). In both,
Russell makes a compelling argument about, mostly, Christianity’s lack of
morality. His argument is supported with evidence from the Bible and the
historical record. Whether you agree with Russell’s conclusions, his work—including
these two essays—is always thoughtful, succinct, and worthwhile. My solitary foray into the world of short
fiction, “THE WATER HOLE,” by
Jim Kjelgaard (1954 / Bluebook), is a short-short about life and death
at a water hole. As usual, Kjelgaard captures the animals as they are rather
than imbuing them with human traits. And I liked this one a bunch. As for my favorite book of the month? It is,
absolutely, Entrances and Exits. Fin— Now
on to next month. |
