Dispatches From Noir

Once upon a time, I dreamed of being an author. I thought I would write a great noir novel. That never happened, but I still admire the spare, descriptive prose and retro sensibilities of the hard-boiled detective.

I also see people every day. Sometimes I can't help but wonder what Chandler, Hammett, Leonard, Cain or even Fleming might have to say about them. So I take a stab at it. Here is the rogue's gallery of the novels and stories I never wrote. Meet the villains, bystanders, toughs and low-lifes that would populate them.

This is also a journal of my own journeys through the wonderful world of hardboiled/noir crime fiction. I review books and movies, and I’m happy to answer crime fiction questions and give recommendations. I'm also starting to think I might just be able to write some fiction of my own. I don't know how that will turn out. I do know that anything that appears on this page is just a dispatch from the great land of Noir.

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Posted on Sunday, 10 July 2011

Because someone has to watch over those who can sleep through the darkness. Someone faceless, who doesn’t expect any gratitude come morning. Someone who won’t be unnerved by the unrelenting night that falls over this city. Someone has to give a damn and give it often enough that this purgatory doesn’t turn into hell. Someone might as well do it in a fedora.