Posts Tagged ‘beginnings’

Beginnings

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August 30th, 2020 Posted 7:45 am

On Sunday we take a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker. How about To Fetch A Thief? An elephant named Peanut plays an important role. (On the book tour a zookeeper told me I’d gotten her right. Whew.) Note: the Chet and Bernie novels can be read in any order. You could start with Of Mutts and Men, the most recent, and not hear a peep out of me.

“I smell trouble,” Bernie said.

Better stop right there. Not that I doubt Bernie. The truth is I believe everything he says. And he has a nice big nose for a human. But what’s that saying? Not much.

It’s a fact that trouble has a smell – human trouble especially, sour and penetrating – but Bernie had never smelled trouble before, or if so he hadn’t mentioned it, and Bernie mentioned all kinds of things to me. We’re partners in the Little Detective Agency, me and Bernie, Bernie’s last name being Little. I’m Chet, pure and simple.

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Beginnings

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August 23rd, 2020 Posted 8:02 am

On Sundays we take a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker. How about the latest Chet and Bernie novel – Of Mutts And Men? (Which begins on an existential note.)

A rooftop chase? Who’s got it better than me?

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Beginnings

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August 16th, 2020 Posted 7:31 am

On Sundays, we do beginnings, taking a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker. How about End of Story, a Publishers Weekly and Entertainment Weekly best book of 2006?

[“… cunning… very scary… Abrahams writes prison scenes that can curl your toes, but nothing captures the brutality of the life more expressively that the material turned out by Ivy’s class.”
– New York Times Book Review (Marilyn Stasio)]

“How is going the writing?” said Dragan Karodojic.

Closing time at Verlaine’s Bar and Grille on Schermerhorn Street, no one left inside except Dragan, the dishwasher, mopping the floor, and Ivy Seidel, the bartender, cashing out.

“Not bad,” Ivy said. The question – how her writing was going – was the biggest one in her life, with her all the time, and the true answer was she had no idea.

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Beginnings

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August 9th, 2020 Posted 8:41 am

On Sunday we do beginnings, taking a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker. Since we seem to have missed our normal Christmas in July post, let’s have Santa 365, the e-short story, do double duty today.

“There’s no Santa Claus,” Charlie said.

“Who told you that?” said Bernie.

“Esmé.”

“Who’s Esmé?”

“At school.”

“Well,” said Bernie, “everyone has their own opinion.”

“It’s not an opinion, Dad,” said Charlie. “It’s a scientific fact.”

“Oh?”

“From a scientist.”

“Any scientist in particular?”

“Groucho Marx.”

“Esmé told you that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Know much about Groucho Marx?”

Charlie shrugged his skinny little shoulders. “He was a scientist and he said there ain’t no Santa Claus.”

“What do Esmé’s parents do?”

“Drive her to school. Pick her up.”

“I meant for a living.”

“Like you’re a private eye?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

“I don’t think they’re private eyes,” Charlie said.

“Why not?”

“They’re rich.”

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