The Interrogation Room – An Interview With Jason Beech

Next up in The Interrogation Room… Tom Leins catches up with Jason Beech to discuss his new book, City of Forts.

Firstly, how would you pitch City of Forts to potential readers?

All thirteen-year-old Ricky Nardilo wants is a fun summer before he and his friends part for school again. But, when he and Liz fall through the floor of an abandoned house and come face to face with a dead man, the hot months become charged with danger.

The City of Forts is the name Ricky and his friends have given a crescent of abandoned homes at the edge of Town. Lying in the shadow of a disused factory it is their refuge from the Town’s rust, its drug dealers, and the Ghost Boys.

It’s not a refuge for long. The dead man has triggered a gangster’s warpath. Tarantula Man wants to know how his man has disappeared. And he wants to use the City of Forts for his own purposes.

Ricky, Liz, Bixby, and Tanais will not give it up without a fight – and maybe with the help of Floyd, Mr Vale and his son, Charlie, they’ll rid themselves of the invaders.

City of Forts is a dark coming of age crime drama where every street and alleyway is loaded with menace.

As a Brit living in the US, when you start work on a new piece, is your natural inclination to write an American story or a British one?

I don’t know anymore. I write the first paragraph and see which location it takes me. I set City of Forts in Yorkshire at first, but Ricky’s tone came out all American, so I switched it quickly to the US hinterland, even though much comes loosely from my own childhood.

I set the one I’m writing now, Never Go Back, in the US, but that has shifted back to my Sheffield hometown, maybe because it’s about an expat coming back to his roots. This bugger is all made-up, but is full of dee-dars as well as Spaniards.

Getting the American tone right for City of Forts proved a challenge. I initially called it City of Dens, but an American pal noted that a den on this side of the pond is where you put your office, so that title went out the window head first.

I’m not a native, but when I first came over here I lived with dozens of American families from all political backgrounds – hardcore Republicans and live-and-let-live liberals, as well as independents in between. I’ve sat at their breakfast tables in my shorts, been to their churches, slid off their double-decker boat slides into lakes outside John Mellencamp’s house.

And I’ve lived here for years now, so I felt comfortable writing from an American perspective, from all their perspectives. I hope I got it right, and I hope I’ve scrubbed all references to shopping trolleys away.

You have produced short stories as well as novels – which format do you enjoy writing the most?

I prefer short stories when I’m writing a novel, until I get past about 20,000 words in a novel and then I prefer the novel. Once you’ve lived inside it a while it’s easier than a short story, which is over almost as quick as you started.

What are the main positives behind self-publishing – and what are the chief drawbacks?

The freedom to write what the hell you want is the top selling point of independent publishing. As long as you iron out all the work’s deficiencies and get other eyes involved, it is brilliant for creativity.

The biggest drawback is getting your work seen. I’ve sold a few, but I’m a terrible marketer and I’m sure I could reach a lot more readers with the skills pro publishers have in their hands.

Do you think crime fiction is too safe? Do you read mainstream crime fiction, or are your tastes firmly rooted in the independent scene?

There’s a market for any taste nowadays, so I don’t think it’s safe if you know what you want and know how to get it. You’ve got to be careful not to buy any old guff just because it’s ultra-violent. That veers towards torture or misery-porn. But there have been many mainstream crime fiction books I’ve read where I got to the end and wondered, “is that it?”

I’m mad for James Ellroy, which scares me half to death. But I also like Ian Rankin, who’s nowhere near as off the rails. I can mix it with the independent stuff. If I want a laugh I’m all Paul D. Brazill. Ryan Bracha comes up with some off the wall crackpottery I enjoy. Ray Banks, Keith Nixon, Thomas Pluck, Paul Heatley, Gareth Spark, Kate Laity/Graham Wynd, Aidan Thorn – loads to enjoy.

Which contemporary writers do you consider to be your peers?

Bloody hell, I don’t know if I can answer that until I have a wider readership. I’d love to say Aidan Thorn, Paul D. Brazill, you, Paul Heatley, Sonia Kilvington, Ryan Bracha, Keith Nixon, and a whole bunch more, but they are all way ahead of me.

If your career trajectory could follow that of any well-known writer, who would you choose, and why?

I’d want to mix James Ellroy and Iain Banks in a stew and have that career. I don’t know where I am with Ellroy – is he a right wing nut or an Obama supporter? – but his books make your head spin. I love Banks’ characters and could live in his The Crow Road world, easy.

I could live with their success, though I’d find Ellroy’s public persona hard to keep up with, and I couldn’t pull off his bullshit pronouncements.

Finally, what are your future publishing plans?

My new novel, City of Forts, is out on 15 April this year – out for pre-order right now. I hope to get Never Go Back out for Christmas.


Jason Beech hails from Sheffield, England, but now lives in New Jersey with his wife and daughter. He’s the author of Moorlands and the Bullets, Teeth, & Fists Collections. His next novel, City of Forts, is out soon, and he has a number of shorts in various digital magazines.






Under The Influence – Richard Brautigan – by Chris Orlet

Richard Brautigan was not a great novelist. He was a worse poet. He did, however, have a remarkable – and fleeting – talent for tapping into a certain substrata of the national zeitgeist.

Thus, for a few years Brautigan was the unlikeliest of counter-culture icons. One critic noted that in the 1960’s, the release of a new Brautigan book was akin to the appearance of a new Bob Dylan album.

I was introduced to Brautigan’s works through the dog-eared copy of his novella In Watermelon Sugar that my older sister had abandoned in the bathroom closet–which may be the most effective way yet devised to introduce fifteen-year-old boys to literature.

I didn’t get In Watermelon Sugar, which isn’t surprising since most book reviewers didn’t quite know what to make of it either; a surreal allegory with a post-apocalyptic setting and a sun that shone a different color every day and what the hell was watermelon sugar anyway?

I had a sense that I wasn’t supposed to get it. We were entering strange new territory, having left the familiar and safe land of John Steinbeck and Willa Cather around the last forested bend.

I kept coming back to In Watermelon Sugar, like a hippie fisherman to a dependable trout stream. Perhaps I was attracted by the subversive themes of revolution and peace and other radical ideas my parents and the Catholic Church would have disapproved of.

Or perhaps it was because it made me laugh:

“Here is a list of the things that I will tell you about in this book. There’s no use saving it until later. I might as well tell you now where you’re at—

      1:  iDEATH. (A good place.)

      2:  Charley (My friend.)

      3:  The tigers and how they lived and how beautiful they were and how they died and how they talked to me while they ate my parents, and how I talked back to them and how they stopped eating my parents, though it did not help my parents any, nothing could help them by then, and we talked for a long time and one of the tigers helped me with my arithmetic, then they told me to go away while they finished eating my parents, and I went away. I returned later that night to burn the shack down. That’s what we did in those days.”

Brautigan was a master at creating poignant mood-scapes with just a few words. Partly it was his naive, childlike narration. Always terribly sad and terribly funny at the same time.

Years after the forty-nine-year-old author discharged a revolver into his mouth and followed his hero Hemingway to the great library of unpublished books in the sky, Brautigan’s daughter Ianthe sought to discover the spring of her father’s sadness.

From time to time, he’d hinted at the causes in his fiction, particularly in his semi-autobiographical novel So the Wind Doesn’t Blow it All Away, where he described a mystical Pacific Northwest childhood full of wonder and sadness and tragedy. Ianthe wrote that Brautigan’s mother would leave him and his little sister terrified and alone in their welfare motel room for days upon end, while she went out looking for a new husband. She wrote that her father was so hungry once he threw a brick through a police station window so he wouldn’t starve.

Most of what I read fades immediately from memory. Plot, characters, setting, mood, all vanish like a used bookstore in a quickly gentrifying neighborhood.

But Brautigan has remained with me like a deep and fresh scar.

A few of the stories in his short story collection The Revenge of the Lawn have especially stuck with me.

I’m thinking of his story “⅓, ⅓. ⅓,” chosen by Raymond Carver as one of the great American short stories of the last century. The story is about a young couple who are attempting to write The Great American Novel only they have no typewriter. They ask the narrator, whom they have heard typing away in his cardboard box, if he will collaborate with them.

“I was about seventeen and made lonely and strange by that Pacific Northwest of so many years ago, that dark, rainy land of 1952. I’m thirty-one now and I still can’t figure out what I meant by living the way I did in those days.”

The three strike a deal in which they will split the immense profits of their book into thirds. The story ends with the narrator “pounding at the gates of American literature.”

Brautigan’s best work is not the cult classic Trout Fishing in America, which is as meandering as a shimmering north Pacific stream and as uneven as the floor of an old rural Oregon shack, but his short story “A Short History of Oregon” which tells of a young man who goes hitchhiking and hunting in the rain and comes unexpectedly upon some children on the porch of a shack. There’s more to it, but it’s in the telling. Brautigan’s telling, not mine.

The story’s ending couldn’t be more perfect. So why don’t I leave you with that?

“I’ll have to admit that I was a strange sight coming down their muddy little road in the middle of God-damn nowhere with darkness coming on and a 30:30 cradled down in my arms, so the night rain wouldn’t get in the barrel.

The kids didn’t say a word as I walked by. The sisters’ hair was unruly like dwarf witches’. I didn’t see their folks. There was no light on in the house.

A Model A truck lay on its side in front of the house. It was next to three empty fifty-gallon oil drums. They didn’t have a purpose any more. There were some odd pieces of rusty cable. A yellow dog came out and stared at me.

I didn’t say a word in my passing. The kids were soaking wet now. They huddled together in silence on the porch. I had no reason to believe that there was anything more to life than this.”


Chris Orlet is the author of the forthcoming A Taste of Shogtun (All Due Respect) and In the Pines (New Pulp Press).

Are you a crime writer? Would you like to write a short piece about one of your formative influences? If so, drop me a line via the contact form on the About page!

The Interrogation Room – An Interview With Paul Greenberg

Next up in The Interrogation Room… Tom Leins catches up with Paul Greenberg to discuss his new short story collection, Dead Guy in the Bathtub (All Due Respect).

Firstly, congratulations on the publication of Dead Guy in the Bathtub! How hard was it to select the stories – and indeed the running order?

Thanks Tom. I really appreciate it. Choosing the stories was easy. I sent everything to my editor and publisher, Chris Rhatigan and I let him decide!

My biggest concern about the running order was where do you place the title piece? It’s like making an album. Do you lead with the title track or bury it on side two? We put it towards the top of the order.

Do you have a favourite story in the collection? If so, why is it your favourite?

I like “He Touched Me.” It’s about the underbelly of an extreme collectibles market. It’s got Elvis, passion and decapitation.

What is the oldest story in the book? How do you think your style has evolved since then?

The oldest story in the collection is “Bobby’s Big Brain.” It’s the first story I ever had accepted at Out of the Gutter, back in 2012. As style goes, I try to adhere to Elmore Leonard’s ‘10 Rules of Writing’. Why? Because Elmore Leonard. So you won’t find me “using an adverb to modify the verb said, he admonished gravely”.

Do you think crime fiction is too safe? Do you read mainstream crime fiction, or are your tastes firmly rooted in the independent scene?

I’ve read a ton. Mainstream, indy, vintage pulp fiction, hardboiled and noir authors. Plenty of unsafe out there. Unsafe is good. Like you for example, Tom! (Make out the check to Paul S. Greenberg…)

Your collection has been published by All Due Respect/Down & Out Books – do you have any favourite ADR/D&O authors or titles you would like to recommend?

I’ve read: Chris Irvin, Beau Johnson, Marietta Miles, Tom Pitts and Paul Brazill. All highly recommended. Did I forget Joe Clifford?

Which contemporary writers do you consider to be your peers?

Peers? I have no peers. They just won’t have me.

If your career trajectory could follow that of any well-known writer, who would you choose, and why?

If I had an Andy Warhol ‘15 Minutes of Fame’ trajectory I’d be happy. Then again, probably not…

Do you crave mainstream success, or is developing cult status satisfying enough?

I’m just here for the groupies.

Finally, what are your future publishing plans?

I’m working hard on a second collection of stories. The working title is “Dead Guy in the Dumpster.” See you next year!


Paul Greenberg has been writing since he was a child. His first published work was a review of The Police at The Rat, a legendary Punk club in Boston. An avid reader of crime fiction Paul started writing and submitting to crime fiction journals in 2012. Since then his work has been placed in Out of the Gutter/The Flash Fiction Offensive, Shotgun Honey, All Due Respect, Horror Sleaze Trash, Yellow Mama, Spelk, Thrills Kills & Chaos and Near to the Knuckle. Paul spent many years working in record stores in the Boston area, and is a former employee of Capitol Records. He resides on the Northshore of Boston with his wife and two sons.

Dead Guy In The Bathtub @ Down & Out Books

Book Review: Gunshine State by Andrew Nette


Author: Andrew Nette

Publisher: Down & Out Books

Release Date: February 2018

Gunshine State is the story of Gary Chance, a former Australian army driver, ex-bouncer and thief, who finds himself in Surfers Paradise, Queensland, working for Dennis Curry, an aging criminal with a lucrative side-line in high-stakes poker games. Curry has hatched a plan to rob a high-roller named Freddie Gao, and has assembled an unlikely crew to help him do so. Inevitably, the plan backfires bloodily – setting in motion a violent chain of events that sees Chance scrambling to get clear of the wreckage before circling back in search of his pay-day.

Gunshine State is a tremendous heist-gone-wrong thriller which will delight fans of Richard Stark’s Parker books. The resourceful, cynical Chance is a fully formed flesh-and-blood protagonist – not an indestructible tough guy – and the crew he tangles with is eclectic and similarly well-judged. Nette’s plotting is crisp, and the story zig-zags memorably between the Iron Triangle in South Australia, Surfer’s Paradise, Canberra, Bangkok and Melbourne.

As the heist unravels and the plot unfolds the absorbing location details and invigorating set-pieces help to keep the narrative fresh. All in all: a top-notch thriller. I look forward to the (in-progress) sequel, Orphan Road.

Review by Tom Leins

Buy from Down & Out Books


Book Review: Pennies For Charon by Benedict J. Jones


Author: Benedict J. Jones

Publisher: Crime Wave Press

Release Date: March 2015

When the son of one of London’s leading barristers asks ex-con turned private investigator Charlie ‘Bars’ Constantinou to look for a missing call-girl, Charlie throws himself into the case – only to get sucked into the warped world of a serial killer who believes that the soul of the city demands human sacrifices if it is to reward its inhabitants with riches.

I’m usually a stickler for reading series characters in order, and it pains me to admit that I came to the Charlie Bars series arse-backwards – reading the rural rampage thriller The Devil’s Brew before tackling Pennies For Charon. (Confession: I still haven’t read series opener Skewered either…!)

Charlie Bars may be a rehabilitated South London bad-boy, but this gripping story takes in all corners of the city with its sweeping focus. From barflies in South London boozers with Colonel Gaddafi haircuts to self-made London fetishists in the corridors of power – everyone gets a fair shake from Jones.

Boasting a string of excellent set-pieces – not to mention a number of grisly scenes crammed with inventive violence – Pennies For Charon is a tremendous book. It’s a seething contemporary London novel – simultaneously concerned with re-mapping the capital and contorting the mythology of London’s criminal underbelly into new and unusual shapes.

If anyone wants to write a contemporary series of UK private eye fiction then they need to be willing to go toe-to-toe with Jones. I suspect Charlie Bars won’t be dislodged easily, and I hope this character runs and runs.

Heavily recommended.

Review by Tom Leins

The Interrogation Room – An Interview With Andrew Nette

Next up in The Interrogation Room… Tom Leins catches up with Andrew Nette to discuss his excellent novel, Gunshine State (Down & Out Books).

Firstly, congratulations on the re-release of Gunshine State. How would you pitch the book to potential readers?

Thank you very much.

Gunshine State is a very Australian take on the classic ‘heist gone wrong’ story, set in Surfers Paradise in Queensland, Thailand, and Melbourne. Think Garry Disher’s Wyatt series, Wallace Stroby’s Crissa Stone and Richard Stark’s (Donald Westlake) Parker books and you’ll have an idea what you are in for.

As for the storyline, here’s the pitch: Gary Chance is a former Australian army driver, ex-bouncer and thief. His latest job takes place in Surfers Paradise, working as part gang run by an aging stand over man, Dennis Curry, who runs off-site, non-casino poker games, and wants to rob one of his best customers, a high roller called Frederick ‘Freddie’ Gao. The job seems straightforward but Curry’s crew is anything but. Chance knows he can’t trust anyone, but nothing prepares him for what unfolds when Curry’s plan goes wrong

Compared to a lot of ambiguous crime fiction protagonists, Gary Chance is an open-book. Was it a deliberate decision to make him so open about his background?

While I didn’t particularly set out to write Chance as an open book, I did deliberately want him to have a discernable character with at least elements of a backstory. As much as I dig those crime stories where the criminal protagonist is a complete mystery person, solely focused on whatever criminal endeavour, I wanted Chance to be fleshed out a bit. I wanted him to have weaknesses and kinks and I was also keen to leaven out the dark material in the book – and the story gets pretty dark – with some humour, even if it is bleak humour. And you need some depth of character and backstory to do this. All this said, there is a lot about Chance I didn’t put in book one, so stay tuned.

I enjoyed the episodic nature of the story. Did you write the book in a linear fashion, or was it pieced together afterwards?

No, I write in a pretty linear way, starting off at the beginning and progressing in order until the end. The episodic nature of the novel also my attempt to signpost that the story takes places in very particularly phases, each with its own particular atmosphere.

I also appreciated the abundance of background details when setting the scene – how important is location in storytelling?

For me, hugely. Location is the part of fiction writing that comes easiest to me, as opposed to character, which is something I really need to work at. It is also the aspect of writing I enjoy the most. For me, the process of putting together the flow of a novel is a lot like watching a film, if that makes sense. I think about the story very visually and if I come up with a particular setting I really like, I’ll deliberately write the plot to include it.

A chunk of Gunshine State takes place in Thailand, and your previous book Ghost Money was set in Cambodia – what makes South-east Asia such a compelling backdrop for crime fiction?

Partly it’s the fact I spent a large part of the 1990s workings as a journalist in Indochina and I have travelled around the region extensively since then. It has given me a lot of material to play with. South-east Asia is also such a vibrant region and so much is going on – both incredibly good and heartbreakingly sad – you just can’t make up scenes and characters as good as the material you stumble across every day on the street in parts of Asia. My fascination with Asia as a setting for crime fiction is also a product of the fact that, in Australia, we are part of the region, increasingly so, but there are only a handful of crime novels set in it, and local publishers don’t seem to be at all interested in it. I have never been able to figure why this is so, but I try and fight against it.

Who do you consider your peers? Is there an Australian crime scene to speak of?

Does a bear shit in the woods? There is a huge Australian crime scene, which is far too broad to go into detail about here. The one sub-genre of crime fiction that Australia has historically not had a lot of is noir and hardboiled, which are my two favourites, although that has started to change over the last few years. In terms of Australian authors on the darker end of the scale that your readers might want to check out, I’d suggest David Whish Wilson, Emma Viskic, Leigh Redhead, Iain Ryan and Jock Serong. You can’t go wrong with any of their books.

Gunshine State has been published by Down & Out Books – do you have any favourite D&O authors or titles?

There are a lot of Down & Out authors I have not read, so I am not sure how informed my opinion is. I am a big fan of Eric Beetner’s work, as well as being in awe of his productivity. I have enjoyed the writing of Tom Pitts and Gary Phillips. I recently read Cleaning Up Finn by Sarah Chen, and really enjoyed that.

If your career trajectory could follow that of any well-known writer, who would you choose, and why?

Hmmm, probably James Ellroy, even though I thought his latest book, Perfidia, was terrible. So many crime writers owe a debt to Ellroy and I am one of them. He blew a giant sized hole in what people thought crime fiction could be. How cool is that?

You are a big film fan: who would you cast as Chance, given the opportunity?

Easy, a young Bryan Brown. He IS Gary Chance.

Finally, I believe a sequel to Gunshine State is on the cards – how much can you tell us about that?

Yes, there is definitely a sequel on the cards. I am working on it at the moment. It is called Orphan Road and the plot revolves around one of Australia’s largest and most famous heists, the Great Bookie Robbery in 1976. I don’t want to say too much more about it, except to let your readers know that Gunshine State includes the first 5,000 or so words of the follow up as a teaser.


Andrew Nette is a writer of fiction and non-fiction, reviewer and pulp scholar. He is the author of two novels, Ghost Money, a crime story set in Cambodia in the mid-nineties, and Gunshine State. His short crime fiction has appeared in a number of print and on-line publications. His non-fiction includes, Girl Gangs, Biker Boys and Real Cool Cats: Pulp Fiction and Youth Culture, 1950-1980, which he co-edited, an upcoming book on Norman Jewison’s 1975 dystopian classic, Rollerball for the independent film and media studies publisher, Auteur. His reviews and non-fiction have appeared in The Los Angeles Review of Books, Sight and Sound, Guardian Australia and Noir City, the magazine of the US Film Noir Foundation.


The Interrogation Room – An Interview With Liam Sweeny

Next up in The Interrogation Room… Tom Leins catches up with Liam Sweeny to discuss his new short story collection, Street Whispers (All Due Respect).

Firstly, congratulations on the publication of Street Whispers. How hard was it to select the stories – and indeed the running order?

Thank you. It was difficult to pick and arrange the stories. They were written at different times, some for publication, some for fun, a couple were lost treasures, so telling a story with the stories—it didn’t immediately lend itself to that. “The Gull Princess,” the first story, was a story that I felt had a ton of heart for its size. And I wanted to think about how people read short story collections. For a reader that’s unfamiliar with your work, you have maybe two stories to hook them in, and that first story’s got to hit. I think they all hit, especially with the crime-noir crowd, but that first story, I needed it to be something that could capture people who read broadly, like people that I encounter in my day-to-day travels. I’m hoping I achieved that.

Do you have a favourite story in the collection? If so, why is it your favourite?

I’m torn between “The Gull Princess” and “Rats,” but through sheer weight, I would go with “Rats.” I got into writing to put a focus on people that have become invisible to society: the homeless, the hopeless, the disregarded, the background criminals—basically the weathered people who’ve all but given up on finding a legit place in the world. “Rats” is about the life and death of a homeless man named David, and his friend, who remembers him as he makes his way through the city to make David matter. When I was about ten years old, my mother was active with the homeless rights movement in our area. I was involved in sleep outs and rallies, even getting to the Bush compound in Kennebunkport, Maine. This was a time when people were fighting to end homelessness with housing solutions. Soon after that, the focus shifted to a homeless “industry” of sheltering, treatment and managing the homeless on the street, i.e. city ordinances, police actions. I’ve also worked in an SRO for a time, so I’ve seen that battle from both ends. I’ve never myself been homeless, but that’s a matter of ‘any given Sunday’, I guess.

What is the oldest story in the book? How do you think your style has evolved since then?

I think “The Ninth Step” is the oldest one, yeah, “Ninth Step.” It’s a story about an alcoholic coming to terms with his past, but with a twist. And that where I think I’m a different writer now than I was then. I used to pride myself on coming up with interesting twists. Whether it would be a full-on plot twist or just a turn of phrase at the end, I loved getting people to think one thing, and flip them around a hundred-and-eighty-degrees to show them what was happening while they were watching the left hand. I still like this, I think it’s fun, and if anything, I try to build upon the foundation I’ve built when I write one of those stories now. But I’ve been going down the path of slowing down the frenetic pace of action and focusing on the essence of a dramatic moment or moments, the intense focus on a person, giving my readers a mind’s-ride through very tough situations. I think this is where the first story, “The Gull Princess” is at.

Do you think crime fiction is too safe? Do you read mainstream crime fiction, or are your tastes firmly rooted in the independent scene?

That’s hard to say. I like authors like Don Winslow and James Ellroy, and they’re raw. And I’m sure there are many mainstream writers I know nothing about that are the same way. My tastes are rooted in the indie scene, primarily because I really want to support the scene that I’m in. I want to help the author that let their car insurance lapse so they could afford an editor before I want to help the author that has a full marketing team stocking the supermarkets and pharmacies with their books. The public “at-large” will buy their books and sing their praises; they don’t need my help as much. Crime fiction, to me, is gritty and organic and unapologetic. It takes risks, creates characters that are an affront to all we hold holy. I see that more in the indie scene, the willingness, in some cases the ability, to take risks.

Your collection has been published by All Due Respect/Down & Out Books – do you have any favourite ADR/D&O authors or titles you would like to recommend?

God, I could probably go through both catalogs and just pick people wholesale. Most everybody that I like has at least something in ADR/D&O. I’ve actually thought of going to my local indie bookstores with a printed-out catalog and a televangelist’s grin, making sales. But here goes a few. I’ll just give names, because I dig all of their work that I’ve read.

Les Edgerton, Jack Getze, Tom Pitts, Ryan Sayles, Eric Beetner, Jon Bassoff, Angel Luis Colon, Jen Conley, Danny Gardner, Beau Johnson, Dana King, Ed Kurtz, S.W. Lauden, Terrence McCauley, Marietta Miles, Kate Pilarcik, Anthony Neil Smith… I think that’s a big enough reading list for people to start with. Also, Joe Clifford, a writer I follow, will be joining the family soon.

Which contemporary writers do you consider to be your peers?

Stephen King, James Patterson, J.K. Rowling… Seriously though, my favourite authors from Down & Out and All Due Respect could be really copied down here. And a few others, so let me give a shout-out to EA Cook, who I can say is a true peer (we grew up writing together,) Todd Monahan and Paul David Brazill.

I think that we have a natural solidarity in that we’re all putting ourselves out there because we have something to say, and for whatever reason, we’ve sought our platform in the indie circuit. Broadly, I could consider everyone who writes my peer, because at the end of the day, we aren’t in competition with each other as much as we’re competing for the attention of that kid going to town on Candy crush Saga on his phone for five hours instead of picking up a book. I’ve always felt kinship in the writing community, among people who were well-known or unknown, and I’m sure I’m more in the latter category.

If your career trajectory could follow that of any well-known writer, who would you choose, and why?

I’d have to say Herman Mellville. He lived across the river from me. He wrote what would much later become the world-famous Moby Dick, but didn’t really see that kind of fame, because he died, well, “not world-famously” about thirty years before his work had its revival. I’m partially joking, but I’m not looking for the kind of fame in my lifetime that some other authors have. Success, in that it pays the bills and made everybody happy, would work for me. But, seven hundred years from now, someone digging up a disc with all my writing on it, and not finding much else from the 21st Century, would be a treat.

Do you crave mainstream success, or is developing cult status satisfying enough?

Oh, cult status all the way. I want a seedy strip club in L.A. named after the seedy strip club in a couple of my stories, and anybody who comes in and quotes my characters gets all the Bacardi 151 they can drink. It’s kind of funny that you ask this. One of the stories is about a cult leader. Also, we have an honest-to-God cult in the area. I won’t name it, but we’re talking forced sleep deprivation and genital branding. I don’t want that in my cult.

Finally, what are your future publishing plans?

I have the second in my Jack LeClere detective series, Presiding over the Damned, coming out in August of this year. I have the third novel on deck, and currently, I’m just writing as many shorts as I can, trying to find homes for them, and hopefully have another collection in time.


Liam Sweeny is an author and graphic designer from the Capital Region of New York State. His work has appeared both online and in print, in such periodicals as Spinetingler Magazine, Thuglit, All Due Respect, Pulp Modern and So It Goes: the Literary Journal of the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library. He is the author of the collection Dead Man’s Switch and the detective thriller Welcome Back, Jack. The next Jack LeClere series title, Presiding over the Damned, will be out in August from Down & Out Books.

His new collection, Street Whispers, will be out on February 23rd, and is available for preorder now.



The Interrogation Room – An Interview With Nick Kolakowski

Next up in The Interrogation Room… Tom Leins catches up with Nick Kolakowski to discuss his new book, Slaughterhouse Blues (Shotgun Honey).

Firstly, congratulations on the publication of your new book, Slaughterhouse Blues! Your previous book, A Brutal Bunch of Heartbroken Saps boasted its fair share of slaughter – how have you topped that?!

I actually wrestled with the grand finale of “Slaughterhouse Blues” quite a bit. “A Brutal Bunch of Heartbroken Saps” ends with a Peckinpah-scale gun-battle between our protagonists, an assassin dressed as Elvis, and an army of crooked cops. Buildings blow up, thousands of rounds are expended at various targets, and a severed finger becomes a lethal weapon. How would I top that? With a nuke?

So with “Slaughterhouse Blues,” I didn’t focus on racking up a huge body count—I couldn’t see the payoff of that, story-wise. Instead, I made the narrative tighter, more intimate, more personal—“Slaughterhouse Blues” has nowhere near the violence of “A Brutal Bunch,” but when our heroes get hit, you really feel their pain.

After the small town carnage of the first book, the sequel unfolds in some comparatively exotic locations – how important is location in your fiction?

I’ve always seen the location as another character, and I don’t like setting fiction in a place I haven’t been in real life.

Part of the book takes place in Nicaragua. Having spent time there, I have always thought that Central America would make a great backdrop for crime fiction – why did you choose that country?

Many years ago, through a confluence of random circumstances, I ended up as the managing editor of a cigar magazine—even though I don’t smoke. (Very long story short, a publishing company I worked for decided to launch a cigar magazine, and needed an in-house editor to run it, and I was the only one at the time not managing his own “book.”) As part of my work for that magazine, I ended up travelling through Central America and the Caribbean a good deal.

So I wrote about Nicaragua and Cuba in a non-fiction context, but always wanted to give it the fictional treatment, besides. You know how vibrant Nicaragua is, and how thick with history; as I sat down and outlined where I wanted Bill and Fiona (my main series characters) to go next, I thought: “How could I not send them there?”

Plus, I found using Nicaragua and Cuba heightened the writing process, because I could weave in my personal experiences. At the beginning of the book, for example, when the characters are drinking in a bar and a car backfires outside, and everyone dives to the floor because they think it’s incoming gunfire—that really happened. Or watching Havana cops chase pickpockets—things like that are all usable, if you’re a novelist.

Have you learned any key writing lessons through your work as an editor for the flash fiction site Shotgun Honey? Have you been able to apply these to your longer work?

Flash fiction really teaches you economy—any extraneous details, any “fat,” have to go, because you simply don’t have the word-count available for those sorts of digressions. With longer work like novellas and novels, you obviously have as much space as you need, but you still need to keep the reader’s attention. Helping edit Shotgun Honey has given me a much more prejudiced eye for what actually needs to stay in the text, even in novel-writing: I constantly stop and ask myself if something really needs to stay in.

If it’s funny or gruesome, I have a real struggle with cutting it out. I keep a separate document where I collect interesting bits and fragments that I’ve chopped from other works—sometimes they’ll find a good home later in another short story or novel.

Your collection has been published by Shotgun Honey/Down & Out Books – do you have any favourite SH/D&O authors or titles you would like to recommend?

I just finished Angel Luis Colon’s “Meat City on Fire,” which is a fantastic collection of short stories. I’m dearly in love with Hector Acosta’s “Hardway,” which is a gritty-but-charming novel that manages to combine wrestling with crime. Rusty Barnes’ “Knuckledragger” is a real punch in the gut, especially the ending.

Which contemporary writers do you consider to be your peers?

There is a whole crew of New York City crime writers who I really admire and respect. There are regular Noir at the Bar events here, where we stand up and read from our current work-in-progress; it’s great fun to listen to what everyone is working on.

If your career trajectory could follow that of any well-known writer, who would you choose, and why?

I’d take the Chuck Palahniuk pathway in a hot second. You publish a very weird, interesting book on your terms (“Fight Club”), and its success miraculously buys you the cultural cachet (and the financial power) to pretty much write anything you want and have it become a point of widespread discussion.

Your writing has an enviable mainstream quality: do you crave mainstream success, or is developing cult status satisfying enough?

I’d be a liar to dismiss popular success—I like the idea of the freedom that would come with that. But I’d also take cult status in a second. Just as long as I have the readers who like what I’m doing, and want to turn out for the next book and the next after that, I’m happy.

What can you tell us about the 3rd book in the ‘Love & Bullets Hookup’ series? Will there be more love or bullets?!

Lots more love, lots more bullets! It’s titled “Main Bad Guy,” and it wraps up the story of Bill and Fiona, while plunging quite a bit into their history; you’ll meet Fiona’s father, who’s mentioned in “Slaughterhouse Blues,” and is in many ways the ultimate badass.

Finally, what are your future publishing plans?

So in August, Down & Out Books will publish “Boise Longpig Hunting Club,” which is my longest novel yet (although it’s not super-lengthy; I like to keep things tight—that flash fiction influence again!). It’s a take on “The Most Dangerous Game,” set in the American West, that tackles our current right-wing politics. I’m quite excited about it!


Nick Kolakowski is the author of “A Brutal Bunch of Heartbroken Saps” and “Slaughterhouse Blues.” His short fiction has appeared in McSweeney’s, Thuglit, Shotgun Honey, Plots with Guns, and various anthologies.


Under The Influence – Stephen King – by Beau Johnson

I have read many authors.  King.  Barker.  Koontz.  Irving.  Larsson.  These are only a few and I couldn’t possibly name them all.  But who it has always been about, and who it always comes back to for me is Stephen King.  Ever since I bought Misery for my brother all those years ago. A birthday gift if I remember correctly – because I was now a fifteen-year old with a job, I’ll have you know!

He failed to read it, but I was hooked, becoming what King calls a ‘constant reader’.  I mean, who wouldn’t be after you’ve met the likes of Annie Wilkes?  She is perfect in every way.  In every way I like, that is.  And therein is what draws me, and people like me, to King, I think.  Not that I turn from the sunshine totally, but because I’m drawn to the darkness just a little bit more.  It’s not for some, sure, but for me his influence began right there, in my teens.

Mr. King, as I have said before, became my Vader.

Not Anakin.  Vader.

It wasn’t until my twenties that he blew my mind, though.  When I began to understand the enormity of what was unfolding before me and that I’d been invited to the dance without even knowing; when I realized Randall Flag from The Stand was in fact the wizard from Eyes of The Dragon.  As I said:  Mind.  Blown.

My own writing, for what it’s worth, is far from Uncle Stevie’s but he is still very much a part of the words I put to page.   I haven’t a Dark Tower like King, nor will I ever, but I do have Bishop Rider – a man trying to save himself by saving others, and the main protagonist from my collection, A Better Kind of Hate.

Born of influence, I truly believe I would not have met him if not for my brother’s lack of interest in a birthday present I would end up taking for myself.

I will never reach the heights of Stephen King, no, and I know as much, but if I ever have the chance to meet him I hope I’d be able to articulate the influence he has had upon me and my life.

If not, maybe I’d find a way to put those words into a story…

Maybe I’d ensure it ended in revenge…

Bio: Beau Johnson has been published before, usually on the darker side of town. Such fine establishments might include Shotgun Honey, Out of the Gutter Online, Horror Sleaze Trash, Spelk and Story & Grit. His collection, A Better Kind of Hate, is available now via Down & Out Books. 


Are you a crime writer? Would you like to write a short piece about one of your formative influences? If so, drop me a line via the contact form on the About page!

Book Review: Gravesend by William Boyle


Author: William Boyle

Publisher: No Exit Press

Release Date: January 2018

Ray Boy Calabrese is released from prison 16 years after his actions led to the tragic death of an innocent young man. The victim’s brother, Conway D’Innocenzio, is a 29-year-old Brooklynite, working at a branch of Rite Aid in Gravesend, Brooklyn, nursing a festering grudge against Ray Boy. Obsessed with killing his nemesis, but incapable of following through with his plan, Conway goes badly off the rails, and his sense of despair is rivalled only by that of Ray Boy himself. Hard with prison muscle on the outside, Ray Boy has gone soft inside, and is now utterly appalled at his crime. No longer the neighbourhood threat that his friends – and his loose cannon nephew Eugene – want him to be, it is clear that no one in Gravesend destined for a happy ending…

Gravesend is a book about memory, legacy and reputation – and the toxic baggage than can haunt subsequent generations. It’s a crime story, but one that constantly wrong-foots you, by steering the narrative in unexpected directions. The characters, streets and bars feel incredibly authentic, and the level of background detail that Boyle brings to the table throughout is superb.

The gritty street-level storytelling has welcome echoes of George Pelecanos and Dennis Lehane, but Gravesend actually put me in mind of a different pair of writers. I discovered Daniel Woodrell and James Sallis through No Exit Press many years ago – two writers who produce slim books that made a big impact. Boyle’s Brooklyn backdrop may have little in common with Woodrell’s country noir, or the smouldering New Orleans of Sallis’s Lew Griffin books, but his nuanced writing holds up very well against their work.

Highly recommended.


Review by Tom Leins