Nostalgia City Mysteries

Mark S. Bacon

Tag Archives: Dashiell Hammett

F**king profanity in mystery novels: an update

First of two parts

Comedian George Carlin had seven words.   Mystery novelist John Sanford has hundreds, but he repeats. John Grisham uses them sparingly.  Many mystery, suspense and thriller writers use them.  But some don’t.

Agatha Christie didn’t.  Neither did a whole generation of cozy authors from Dorothy L. Sayers to Ngaio Marsh to Charlotte MacLeod.

Swear words, dirty words, four-letter words, cuss words or however you describe them are the  way many people—including mystery writers—express themselves.  Are words like f**k and s**t appropriate in mystery fiction?  Or does avoiding profanity altogether make present-day dialog sound tame and artificial?

I’m a little new to mystery writing and the use of expletives still fascinates and puzzles.  I wrote about this topic here when I’d published my first mystery.  Now that I sent the manuscript for my third Nostalgia City mystery to my publisher, I’m still intrigued.  Although I have settled on a profanity policy for my own work, I decided to take another look at the opinions and practices of mystery readers and writers alike.  The result was damn surprising. Continue Reading →

Read this! I have awesome content


If you’re looking for quality content, you’ve come to the right place.  I mean, don’t we all want good content?  I like it in hamburger: low fat content and none of that pink slime that was in the news recently.  Some people like adult content in their movies.  Whipped cream lovers like contents under pressure, otherwise the stuff would just stay in the can.   Without a table of contents it’d be difficult to find something in a book, and if you have an alcoholic content higher than .08 you’d better not be behind the wheel.

But perhaps you’re looking for a different type of content.  It’s hard to tell because content, or awesome content, seems to be all it takes to satisfy even the most discriminating online reader today.  This must be true because I’ve read it dozens of times on the Internet.  Looking for advice on how to make more “friends” or get retweeted more often?  Quality content is the answer from every media guru or how-to website.  Do you know what you need to get more readers for your blog or to spiff up your email?  You guessed it: quality content.

Content, as it’s used (overused) on the Web and in most forms of business communication, is more than just a horrifying cliché.  Could you call it a euphemism for bright, witty, original, informative and clear writing?  Possibly, but my sense is that in many instances the word is used without much forethought. The term borders on gibberish, piffle, nonsense.  Here’s a good example:

Bloggers get lots of spam in the “comments” sections of their sites.  God only knows the purpose of these, except to lure you into clicking on a website—a decision you will regret long after you have your hard drive reformatted.  What many of these spammers begin with is praise for the site, using the phrase quality content.  No thinking involved here.  Blanket quality content could refer to a blog about taxidermy, Cartesian philosophy or football.

Inane use of the word, however, is not limited to spammers.  Enter two words into a search engine and you’ll be Awesome content reallyovercome with thousands of websites offering advice on creating awesome content.  Often the advice is bland, generic and silly.  Case in point: The website offers an article cleverly entitled “How to Generate Awesome Content.”  You need an attention-grabbing headline, accurate information and rich media, we’re told.

“Originality is a key ingredient…” the website says, but “…the ideas themselves don’t have to be wholly original.”  In addition to this site, and thousands more like it, are web pages that tell where to find awesome content that you can simply appropriate.  Other sites offer formatted 140-character content you can easily copy and paste into your tweets.

What I’m getting at here is that not only do I object to the term “content,” the necessity of providing stock material and short-cuts is a sad reflection on education or perhaps on our creative powers.  Certainly websites that provide summaries and indices of material available elsewhere can be useful—I do it myself.  But the notion of just cutting and pasting simply to have something to say is pitiful.

So, if you’re looking for awesome content (we’ll leave the task of dealing with those who misuse the word awesome for later), check out my archives, read Dashiell Hammett, Dickens or pick up a copy of the New York Times.

Next time we’ll get back to talking about books, mysteries and mystery writers.  I read an article once, however, that advised me to keep my blog lively by occasionally posting off topic.  It also advised an occasional rant, but I would never do that.

Discover Cornell Woolrich, author of “finest suspense novels ever written”


If you’re a mystery or suspense fan and have never heard of Cornell Woolrich, let me introduce you to one of the most prolific, stylistic and ingenious writers of the noir era.  His life was in some sense a tortured one containing successes and failures and dominated by his overbearing, wealthy mother.   Perhaps best known for his short story, Rear Window, which became an Alfred Hitchcock movie, Woolrich wrote more than 25 novels, numerous screen plays and dozens of short story collections.   According to Woolrich novels and short stories were used as the basis for more than 125 movies and TV dramas.

Woolrich died in 1968; few people attended his funeral.

Born in New York City in 1903, he struggled throughout the late 1920s and early 1930s writing short stories and (uncredited) screenplays for feature films in Hollywood.  While in California he married a producer’s daughter, but the marriage was short-lived and Woolrich returned to New York and his mother.  During the 1930s he wrote three novels and many short stories which appeared in pulp mystery magazines.  Gradually through his inventive plots and swift pacing he gained recognition and soon started cranking out superb noir suspense novels, many of which–if not all–became movies or TV dramas.

Eleven novels Woolrich published during the 1940s are “unsurpassable classics in the poetry of terror,” writes Francis M. Nevins, mystery writer, editor and Woolrich scholar.  Writing in the introduction to a Woolrich collection, Nevins says, “These [eleven] titles, all published between 1940 and 1948, make up the finest group of suspense novels ever written.”

The 1940s novels earned Woolrich a substantial living and a reputation on par with the best at work in noir.

Nevins says Woolrich’s world, “is a feverish place where the prevailing emotions are loneliness and fear and the prevailing action a race against time and death.”

“Woolrich’s fictional world is more discordant and threatening, and therefore perhaps more contemporary than that of either [Dashiell] Hammett or [Raymond] Chandler,” says Richard Rayner in the introduction to the 1988 Simon and Schuster collection, “Rear Window and Other Stories.”

Rear Window

This is one Woolrich collection that’s available, not the one mentioned in this article.

Rayner describes the situation one of Woolrich’s protagonists finds herself in as “something which might have been invented by Kafka on a bad day.”

The Woolrich novels are compelling but so are his short stories–his short crime tales from the 1930s are an excellent introduction to this author.  Originally this article was going to be a review of the “Rear Window” collection, but not only is it out of print, it seems to have disappeared.   In fact, many of Woolrich’s books are becoming rare.  Amazon and ebay prices for many used novels and story collections can reach more than $100 although many are available (used) in the $10 to $50 range.

There are other Woolrich collections called “Rear Window” available online but no listings I found provide the names of the stories included.  Thus, let me introduce you to a few of the master’s tales that you may find in more than one collection.

Woolrich stories often find average citizens stuck in impossible situations.  Such is the case in I Won’t Take a Minute (1940).  Protagonist Kenny is walking his fiancé home from work one evening and she has to stop at an apartment building to drop off a package that her boss asked her to deliver.  Kenny waits outside and she goes up in the elevator after telling him she won’t take more than a minute.  Of course she never returns, and the balance of the story is Kenny’s attempt to find her.

The Corpse Next Door (1937) is reminiscent of Poe’s Telltale Heart but Woolrich’s tormented main character is obsessed by the contents of a Murphy bed.  In, You’ll Never See Me Again (1939) , Ed Bliss has an argument with his wife who storms out supposedly heading for her mother’s house.   After two days Bliss is told that “Smiles” never made it to her mother’s and he runs afoul of the police in a frantic attempt to find his wife.  The 41-page story is filled with nighttime car chases, resourceful amateur sleuthing and repeated searches through a sinister house in the country.

In Dead on Her Feet (1935), rookie detective Smith is sent to investigate a nine-day old dance marathon and locate one Toodles McGuire, a 16-year-old whose mother has called police.   Detective Smitty, who flips over his jacket lapel to flash his badge, locates the missing girl but then finds himself investigating a murder.  His method of solving the case is macabre but effective.

Woolrich died at the age of 64 after many years of ill health and depression following the death of his mother.   According to Nevins, in a fragment of his papers found after his death Woolrich wrote, “I was only trying to cheat death.  I was only trying to surmount for a little while the darkness that all my life I surely knew was going to come rolling in on me some day and obliterate me.”

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