When You're a Jet, You're a Jet All The way.

I've been reading mysteries a long time, at least in relation to how long I've been rattling around this sphere of dirt we live on. Even as a kid my favorite comics were Batman (still are actually). I like the
thinking that goes into mysteries. It has to follow a certain logic or it won't work. The first mysteries I remember reading were books by Ed McBain, Gregory MacDonald's Fletch series, and what ever my Mom happened to leave laying around. As I grew older and read more, my tastes evolved. I grew tired of the best selling Grisham of the week. I started to discover authors who should actually be that successful.

Bill Pronzini writes a wonderful series. The detective is nameless. And the books actually say "A Nameless Detective Novel" on them. It astounds me that so many books could be written without uttering the guys name! And the stories work. They are well written and tight. The detective ages, remembers the past, and has regrets.  He doesn't live in a perfect world. But he does what he can to make his part of it better. And hopefully get paid along the way. Bill Pronzini has also edited numerous anthologies and written plenty of stand alone books. And yet with this huge body of work, people who say they love mysteries don't know his name. They should. His descriptive styling is wonderful. The visions that fill my head while reading could never be reproduced on a screen as well as they are put into my head by the books. It makes me want to spend a vacation visiting the places in the books. A kind of Nameless vacation. Bill rocks. He's been writing full time since 1969 and has put out a lot of things to read.  If nothing else the two books which were a study in bad lines and poor English called "Gun in Cheek" and "Son of Gun in Cheek". Both are extremely entertaining. So take a look around your local mystery bookstore and see if you can find something with his name on it. You won't be disappointed.

Mr. Pronzini lives in California. He is married to Marcia Muller (another wonderful author).  He also collects and is an authority of Pulp magazines.  His latest novel is called Crazybones.

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Spring is here. At least technically. This means a lot of books coming out. I'm noticing a trend of more authors writing stand alone books and taking a break from the series they write. And while I understand the reasons for this, I hope they don't leave their series behind. Dennis Lehane's Mystic River is a great book, but I for one need at least one or two more with Patrick and Angie. And Mr. Crais? Please tell me Elvis and Pike aren't done just yet.

The Anthony awards ballots have gone out. The only thing I really want to say about this is -- Katy Munger deserves an award damnit!

So for this weekend, my goal is to finish reading the rest of the G M Ford books that I have unread, and start the new Ian Rankin. It is true that there are more books than I have time. But when I have time off, what do I do? Go book hunting. I may need to build a cabin in the woods for me and Ruth. No phones, no TV, just a fridge full of tab and fruit, and a whole lot shelves for books.

And the title of this weeks column? Just a song that's been rattling around in my head.