Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Review: The Bloody Spur by Charles Einstein

by Eric

When I was following the coverage of the Boston bombing, as newspapers and television networks battled to break every new revelation first -- sometimes even trying to play detective and identify the culprits and failing miserably -- I was eerily reminded of the book I'd just finished reading, Charles Einstein's The Bloody Spur.

The 1953 Dell paperback original, filmed by Frtiz Lang as While the City Sleeps, isn't a western. The title's "spur" refers to a line from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. As the blurb explains, after a serial killer has struck again....

"...in the city room of the fabulous Kyne News empire, four big-time newsmen went into action. All four knew that an exclusive beat on the killings would mean the top job at Kyne -and they were all hungry for that job. Hungry enough to buck the police, sell out their mistresses, and commit blackmail. Four decent men - corrupted by the bloody spur of ambition."

Though the story revolves around efforts to capture a serial killer, the book isn't a detective novel either. There's plenty of speculation about the identity of the psychopath but Einstein, a newspaperman and sportswriter, concentrates mostly on the newspaper drama. He throws the reader into the fog of war in a big city newsroom during a breaking story.

I found the details of the business circa 1950 fascinating in themselves, everything from how to write a headline to how to arrange print runs for different editions according to how many trucks would be available. The frenzy to beat the competition by putting a story on the wire five minutes ahead or hitting the streets with an extra in the morning rather than the afternoon, was on display, in its 21st century version, last week.

Most important, however, are the maneuverings of the high powered executives, their allies and enemies, in the battle to be appointed successor to the newly deceased executive director. As the book progresses the professional and personal entanglements become so complicated I needed to keep a character list. The newspaper men are almost as driven and tormented as the warped killer they each hope to be the first to reveal.

By the end of the book, the winner of the executive director contest won't surprise anyone who is even vaguely aware of how corporate personnel decisions are really made.

The Bloody Spur has everything covered -- the streets, the offices, the bars and bedrooms. The novel is densely written and plotted, and the characters are painfully realistic and mostly unlikeable, but it's a classic.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Orphan Scrivener # 80

by Eric

Ghastly home invading insects, ghastly cheeses, and even some less ghastly news about our writing, all in the newest issue of our newsletter the The Orphan Scrivener now online. Still in glorious plain text.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Anthologies? We Love 'Em

by Eric

Towards the beginning of her fiction writing career in the eighties Mary made three short story sales to Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, straight out of the slush pile. Later we teamed up on sales to the same publication but mostly we've confined ourselves to writing the occasional short story only when asked to do so for an anthology.

In the April SPAWN (Small Publishers, Artists and Writers Network) newsletter Mary tells how our series of nine (so far) Byzantine mystery novels began with a single very short story in an anthology.

She is one a several authors who write about their experience with anthologies.

As the introduction says: "Anthologies? Are they really worth the trouble? Is there money in it for writers, or are there other benefits? How do you get in one? ...

"Many anthologies are by invitation only. Once the editors see your work in magazines or ezines or on genre sites, you may be invited to join the fun. This method saves a lot of time for editors—they'll already know your style and know you can meet a deadline. Read Mary Reed's story below and see how that first invitation grew and grew for her."

Read: Anthologies? We Love 'Em