Hmm… reading James Ellroy’s “LA Quartet” Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential, and White Jazz… so far, it’s certainly his best work. (Reading Nowhere now… I’m glad that I took Robin’s Recommendation… I initially didn’t want to read them, because his later books are really kinetic, written in a telegraphic style that can go for paragraphs, pages, without a complete sentence. (“12:45. Buzz McCall on the Simmons roust. Goose egg on McKibben. Nothing yet from that lazy fat fuck in Ballistics. Hit the street and out to the Valley to brace the shine at his fuck pad.” Etc… I’ve seen people’s journals here written on the same level. bleh.)

Occasionally I got the giggles when reading in that format, which I don’t think is what he had in mind. That said, Dudley Smith is one scary guy. I’d cross the street if I knew he was coming, not that it would help.

Other things I’m currently stumbling over…Pennsylvania Dutch Hex signs.

Thinking about a Clockwork Distelfink. Can you dig it, Scotto? Noir fiction in Pennsylvania Dutch country? Maybe.

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