Say boo.
Joyce Carol Oates has long been fascinated by the phenomenon of “mystery”—in art, as in life. She is the author of a number of works of psychological suspense fiction including the novels Beasts, A Fair Maiden, Jack of Spades, and Rape: A Love Story (recently adapted for the screen as Vengeance: A Love Story, starring Nicolas Cage, arguably the worst film adaptation ever made in the history of American cinema, though film aficionados might wish to quarrel with this), and the story collections The Female of the Species, The Doll Master, Dis Mem Ber, and Night-Gaunts. In 2018 she was awarded the LA Times Book Prize in the Mystery/Thriller category for her novel A Book of American Martyrs and in 2019 she was awarded the Jerusalem Prize for her lifetime achievement in literature. She has been a member, since 1978, of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and in 2018 was inducted into the American Philosophical Society.
• “The Archivist” is an adaptation of a section of my novel My Life as a Rat, which had its genesis in a short story titled “Curly Red,” originally published in Harper’s, in a very different form. In the short story, I was exploring the commingled guilt and hurt of a young woman who had been exiled from her family, for having (reluctantly) informed upon her older brothers, who’d participated in a hate crime; in the novel, I am exploring the psychology of exile, the assimilation of guilt by the victim who, if she is victimized again, as in the story “The Archivist,” will not defend herself but accept further punishment as deserved, and will not inform upon her abuser. It is often wondered why victims of sexual abuse don’t report their abusers, and in “The Archivist” it is clear to us that the teenage girl-victim identifies more definitively with her abuser than with those adults who might wish to help her—because she considers herself guilty, deserving of punishment. But “The Archivist” is also an exploration of the culture that averts its eyes from abuse, in this case shielding a flagrant bully/abuser who happens to be a high school math teacher of quasi-popular status.
Brian Panowich feels a bit strange writing about himself in the third person but he will do his best. Brian started out as a firefighter who wrote stories and morphed into a writer who fights fire. He has written three novels, a boatload of short stories, and maintains a monthly column called “Scattered & Covered” for Augusta Magazine. He lives in East Georgia with four children who are more beautiful and more talented than anyone else’s. He also might be biased. Brian’s first novel, Bull Mountain, topped the 2015 best thriller list on Apple iBooks, placed in the top twenty best books on Amazon, and went on to win the International Thriller Writers Award for Best First Novel, as well as the Southern Book Prize for Best Mystery. The book was also nominated for the Barry Award, the Anthony Award, Georgia’s Townsend Prize, and was a finalist for the LA Times Book Prize. Bull Mountain was also selected for the coveted “Books All Georgians Should Read” list by the Georgia Center of the Book, and has been the recipient of several foreign press awards. Daniel Woodrell and C. J. Box really like his latest novel, Like Lions, so Brian is pretty happy.
• I remember when my wife and I bought our first home. It was a three-bedroom townhouse that was immediately too small the month after we bought it because she got pregnant with our son, Wyatt—the youngest of our four kids. I was a full-time firefighter at the time and I only worked ten twenty-four-hour shifts a month. I enjoyed my time off. Our first summer in the townhouse I bought a big yellow inflatable pool for the backyard and read a lot of books in a lawn chair while the kids got bigger and bigger right before my eyes. One of those books was a collection of stories by various masters called Best American Mystery Stories of the Century. I don’t have a clue where I got it from, but it was an old faithful read, and I discovered a lot of authors I’d come to idolize. Tom Franklin’s “Poachers” was in that book and it quite literally changed my life—but that’s a different matter altogether. The point is, I remember as if it were minutes ago, thinking to myself how amazing it must feel to be included among the writers in that book. I also thought about how far out of reach and impossible it would be for a forty-year-old Elmore Leonard–loving fireman to ever see his name tagged on that wall.
Hey, y’all. Not impossible.
Because here I am, holding the can of spray paint.
Huge bearhug to Patrick Ryan, my editor on “A Box of Hope.”
The story was written for my father. I cry every time I read it. I hope he’s pleased.
Waiter, more wine, please.
Tonya D. Price publishes both fiction and nonfiction. Her short stories have appeared in Pocket Book and Fiction River anthologies. She draws on her MBA, high-tech business career, and time overseas at the World Health Organization to write international thrillers. She designed her nonfiction series, Business Books for Writers, to help authors who are not business-savvy navigate the serious business of writing. She is currently working on the fourth book in the series. In her most recent novel, a World War II young-adult historical, an American teenager struggles to retain his birthright identity while held as an enemy alien behind the barbed wire of the Crystal City Family Internment Camp. You can find Tonya online at www.tonyadprice.com or on Twitter @BusBooks4Writer.
• When I needed to write a fast-paced story for an anthology submission, I remembered a spring day as I walked to my mailbox at the end of our long driveway. I spotted a large dog running toward me down the middle of our country street. I worried he might get hit, as the street is on a hill with a large blind curve. A blue sportscar raced past me, windows down. Two teenage boys screamed what my grandma would call “bad words” at the dog. I tried to distract them by picking up a softball-size rock from my stone wall. I tossed the stone at them while yelling “Slow down!” The rock landed harmlessly behind the car as it rounded the curve, brakes screeching. My first thought was that the car had hit the dog. A few minutes later I was relieved to see the dog unharmed and hiding in the pines beside our house. When I sat down to write the story, I asked myself, “What would have happened if the rock had hit that car?” I had great fun answering that question, but I have never looked at my house in quite the same way.
Suzanne Proulx is one of countless authors to have published a book entitled Bad Blood. In her case that book was the first of a series featuring hospital risk manager Vicky Lucci, which has been translated into several languages. She is a longtime member of Mystery Writers of America, has been a reader for MWA’s Edgar Allan Poe Awards, and is the editor of Deadlines, the newsletter of the Rocky Mountain MWA chapter.
• I envisioned “If You Say So” as a Valentine’s Day story, but kind of a grim one. He has his scenario—who he thinks he is, how he thinks other people perceive him, how he wants her to see him—and of course she has her scenario, and nobody is quite who the other thinks they are. Not at the beginning, and in this case, definitely not at the end.
I had written the first draft when I saw the call for entries from Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers for the False Faces anthology. I thought “If You Say So” would be a good fit, and was really excited when Angie Hodapp and Warren Hammond, the editors, agreed.
Ron Rash is the author of the 2009 PEN/Faulkner finalist and New York Times bestseller Serena, in addition to six other novels; four collections of poems; and six collections of stories, among them Burning Bright, which won the 2010 Frank O’Connor International Short Story Award, and Chemistry and Other Stories, which was a finalist for the 2007 PEN/Faulkner Award. Twice the recipient of the O. Henry Prize, he teaches at Western Carolina University.
• During the Civil War, Madison County, North Carolina, like most parts of southern Appalachia, had strong Unionist sympathies. When Secession was proposed in 1861, the county voted solidly against it. Once the war began, the county became known as Bloody Madison. In the most notorious incident, Confederate troops massacred thirteen men and boys in the Unionist stronghold of Shelton Laurel, the place where the story is set. But the impetus for “Neighbors” was contemporary events, and those who are caught between allegi
ance and denial of community.
Amanda Rea lives in Colorado with her husband and daughter. She is the recipient of a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writers’ Award, a Pushcart Prize, and the William Peden Prize. Her stories and essays have appeared in Harper’s, One Story, American Short Fiction, Freeman’s, The Missouri Review, Kenyon Review, The Sun, Electric Literature’s Recommended Reading, Indiana Review, and elsewhere.
• When my brother and I were children we were told a story about a distant relative who tried to hang us. According to family lore, the young man led us away from our backyard and into the forest, where he was later caught trying to hoist us into a handmade noose. Neither of us were hurt or remember the incident; it remains, for me, just outside the realm of believable. But I have always been intrigued by what the hangman’s mother reportedly said when she learned two small children were alone with her son: We’d better find them quick. When I started writing “Faint of Heart” there was something about this line, the mystery of it, that felt like an entryway. Still, the story took an appalling number of drafts (and, incidentally, years) to finish, and I’m grateful to Patrick Ryan of One Story for giving it a chance, and to Otto Penzler and Jonathan Lethem for showcasing it here.
Duane Swierczynski is the two-time Edgar-nominated author of ten novels including Revolver, Canary, and the Shamus Award–winning Charlie Hardie series, many of which are in development for film/TV. Duane has also written over 250 comic books featuring The Punisher, Deadpool, Judge Dredd, and Godzilla (among other notable literary figures). His original graphic novel, Breakneck, with artwork by Simone Guglielmini and Raffaele Semeraro, was published in 2019. A native Philadelphian, he now lives in Los Angeles with his family.
• “Lush” was partly inspired by an article I read years ago where a liver specialist tried to estimate exactly how much James Bond drank and came up with something like forty-five drinks per week. (The results were published in the British Medical Journal.) It was kind of a miracle that Mr. Bond could tie his shoes, let alone engage in fistfights, daring escapes, and endless sexual dalliances. So I got to thinking: what if a spy had to drink? I wrote the story, but couldn’t think of anyone who would want it.
Enter Rick Ollerman, who years later asked if I might contribute to his anthology honoring beloved bookseller Gary Schulze, who died from leukemia in April 2016. The only rules: the story had to mention a book, bookstore, or tuba. Of course I said yes (I’m never one to shrink from a challenge, especially when it involves a large brass instrument), and I thought about “Lush.”
Blood Work appeared in August 2018, right when my fifteen-year-old daughter Evie was enduring a second round of chemo in her own battle against leukemia. (She would lose that battle on October 30.) I think Evie would have enjoyed this loving Bond parody—we watched quite a few of the Daniel Craig movies together, even though she probably wasn’t old enough. Every December my wife and I host a book drive in Evie’s honor, something Gary Schulze no doubt would have appreciated. I just haven’t found a way to work in a tuba. Yet.
Robb T. White was born, raised, and still lives in Northeast Ohio. He made it to China once but has been content to remain in his backyard with garden and hammock. He has published several crime, noir, and hardboiled novels and three collections of short stories. He’s been nominated for a Derringer, and many of his stories have appeared in crime zines or magazines including Yellow Mama, Black Cat Mystery Magazine, Switchblade, and Down & Out. His new hardboiled series features private eye Raimo Jarvi (Northtown Eclipse, 2018). Murder, Mayhem and More cited When You Run with Wolves as a finalist for the Top Ten International Crime Books of 2018.
• “Inside Man” was a different writing experience for two reasons: first, Down & Out editor Rick Ollerman, who accepted the story “conditionally,” worked me over in the details, grammar, and word choice until he was satisfied, and we’re talking weeks, not days. I don’t think the Dead Sea Scrolls received as much critical attention, and for his keen eye, and that story’s place in this prestigious anthology, I’m very grateful.
The other reason is that my narrator fits a niche I’ve tried before to squeeze my other narrating criminals into—and not always successfully. Cold-bloodedness doesn’t always work well with the jocular. If it does work here (I defer to the reader), then my ex-con’s heist borders on a kind of hopeless, disciplined lunacy that will affect the reader as I intended. Mindful of those readers who like to peruse a writer’s notes before taking up the story, I’ll say no more about it here.
I suppose, as a crime-fiction writer who turned late in life to writing fiction, I was never tempted by elaborate plots or clever characters. The thrill has always been in a character’s self-revelation through a brutally honest introspection in that neutral zone between writer and reader. This also speaks to my natural antipathy to avoid anything remotely “cozy” in my fiction. I made it to page 25 of my one and only Agatha Christie novel (title forgotten over the decades since) before that paperback went flying into the garden, where it did more good as compost than if I’d forced myself to finish it—not finishing a book begun being a lifetime taboo, not easily violated then or now. I think it was Browning who was chided by his wife in a letter for his lack of spirituality, or something similar, and he responded with a line I’ve regrettably forgotten and won’t try to paraphrase. The gist was that we all need an “appreciation” for evil. For that, an unblinking gaze is required. Stories serve as a prism for that. Hard to do in any era but in our time where everything is psychoanalyzed and nuanced, dissected and filtered through a collective and increasingly more delicate sensibility, it’s almost impossible to do. Let the shrinks and behaviorists scoff. I deplore academe’s desire to eradicate the word evil from our consciousness.
Genre fiction also gives us something besides entertainment and is worth the effort Rick Ollerman and every good editor or publisher demands. Besides, unless I’m wrong about anthropology’s origins, the more violent chimpanzees came out of the trees first, not the gentler bonobos, those sexualized apes from the simian tree. I place my hope in the future of humankind there—in the heavens, the Milky Way, to be precise. If there really are a hundred billion stars swirling about the black hole in the center, then about half should be surrounded by planets, as the astronomers tell us. That increases the odds mightily that there might really be intelligent, civilized life in the universe. It’s just not down here very often.
Ted White began his writing career as a jazz critic, writing for Metronome magazine in 1960. Since then he has been a science fiction writer (more than a dozen novels, many short stories) an editor (assistant editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for five years; editor of Amazing Science Fiction and Fantastic Stories for ten years; editor of Heavy Metal for one year; editorial director of Stardate for one year), an agent (at the Scott Meredith Literary Agency, then solo), an FM radio deejay, and a musician (winds and keys) still currently in a band, Conduit. He has lectured at the Smithsonian Institution. He is currently the copy editor of the Falls Church News-Press, a local weekly.
• This is one of my favorites among the stories I’ve written recently. I was most active as a writer in the 1960s and 1970s, but returned to short stories in 2013, essentially in retirement from the mundane jobs I’d held for the previous two decades. Nikola is a character with whom I fell in love when I wrote this story. I admire her literacy and her guts. She lives alone in a grim world, but she’s a survivor.
Other Distinguished Mystery Stories of 2018
Allyn, Doug
Big Blue Marble, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, May/June
Bourelle, Andrew
Gentleman’s Exit, Pulp Adventures, Issue 29
Bracken, Michael
Itsy Bitsy Spider, Tough, April
Butler, Robert Olen
The Hemingway Valise, Bibliomysteries, The Mysterious Bookshop
Cebula, Michael
The Gunfighters, Mystery Weekly Magazine, April
Deaver, Jeffery
The Christmas Party, The Mysterious Bookshop
Deverell, Diana
Payback Is a Bitch, Fiction River Pulse Pounders: Countdown, ed. by Kevin J. Anderson, WMG Publishing
Eardley, B. J.
Not a Mother, False Faces: Twenty Stories About the Masks We Wear, ed. by Warren Hammond and Angie Hodapp, RMFW Press
Fortunato, Chris
The Boot Scraper, Literary Yard, June
Gates, David Edgerley
A Multitude of Sins, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, January/February
Kaider, Dillon
It Follows Until It Leads, Santa Cruz Noir, ed. by Susie Bright, Akashic Books
Kennedy, Travis
Priceless, Landfall: Best New England Crime Stories, ed. by Verena Rose, Harriette Sackler, Shawn Reilly Simmons, and Angel Trapp, Level Best Books
Kolakowski, Nick
Amanda: A Confession, Unloaded, Vol. II, ed. by Eric Beetner and E. A. Aymer, Down & Out Books
Koryta, Michael
The Last Honest Horse Thief, Bibliomysteries, The Mysterious Bookshop
Latragna, Christopher
A Lousy Little Grand, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, July/August
Mathews, Lou
Crab Dinners, Santa Cruz Noir, ed. by Susie Bright, Akashic Books
McGinley, Chris
Hellbenders, Retreats from Oblivion: The Journal of Noircon
Miles, Scott
Elephant Ears, Noirville: Tales from the Dark Side, Fahrenheit Press
Ortiz, Martin Hill
Bag Man, Mystery Weekly Magazine, March
Page, Anita
Isaac’s Daughters, Nancy Pickard Presents Malice Domestic 13: Murder Most Geographical, ed. by Verena Rose, Harriette Sackler, Shawn Reilly Simmons, and Angel Trapp, Wildside
The Best American Mystery Stories 2019 Page 38