Posts Tagged ‘The Dog Who Knew Too Much’

Beginnings

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April 5th, 2020 Posted 8:15 am

On Sunday we do beginnings, taking look at a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker. Most of the books in Chet and Bernie series take place in the Valley, but three do not. The first of those is The Dog Who Knew Too Much (which takes place partly into Valley, true, but mostly in southwest Colorado).

Was I proud of Bernie or what? True, he’d been pretty nervous going into this gig. I can always tell when Bernie’s nervous – which hardly ever happens, and never when we’re in action – because his smell sharpens a bit, although it’s still the best human smell there is, apples, bourbon, salt and pepper; but now, up on the stage, he was doing great.

“Which, um,” he was saying, “reminds me of a joke. “Sort of. Maybe not a joke,” he went on, turning a page, “more like a – “ and at that moment the whole wad of papers somehow jumped out of his hands, all the pages gliding down in different directions.

 

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Beginnings

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December 15th, 2019 Posted 8:00 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. How about The Dog Who Knew Too Much from the Chet and Bernie series? (Heart of Barkness is the latest but they can be read in any order.) The Dog Who Knew Too Much can’t be called a holiday novel, but it is the book where Chet sees snow for the first time – so it would make a great gift! (Mrs. Publicist threw in that last bit.) It starts – as my books often do – in media res.

Was I proud of Bernie or what?

True, he’d been pretty nervous going into this gig. I can always tell when Bernie’s nervous – which hardly ever happens, and never when we’re in action – because his smell sharpens a bit, although it’s still the best human smell there is, apples, bourbon, salt and pepper; but now, up on the stage, he was doing great.

“Which, um,” he was saying, “reminds me of a joke. “Sort of. Maybe not a joke,” he went on, turning a page, “more like a – “ and at that moment the whole wad of papers somehow jumped out of his hands, all the pages gliding down in different directions.

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Snow

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December 8th, 2019 Posted 9:00 am

Normally on Sunday we do beginnings, checking out the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker. But today – with winter and Christmas so close – we’ve been thinking about snow. We’ve written lots of snow scenes from our very first book (The Fury of Rachel Monette) and snow plays a big role in some of the others – A Perfect Crime, Reality Check (YA), Nerve Damage, the Echo Falls series (middle grade). Not much snow in the Chet and Bernie series, due to the location of most of the stories, but it does appear. The first time was in The Dog Who Knew Too Much:

We started working our way along the base of the cliff, and soon, in a shadowy spot under an overhang, spotted some white stuff, white stuff that reminded me of the white streaks on the mountain.

“Snow, big guy.”

Snow? I’d heard of it, of course, seen it lots of times on TV during the divorce, when for some reason Bernie had really gotten into skiing videos. The snow sent coldness up into the air. I sniffed at it. Snow went right up my nose! I sneezed. Bernie laughed. I licked at the snow. It turned into water on my tongue, although not much water. Bernie picked some up and patted it – hey! – patted it into the shape of a ball. Yes! One thing about Bernie: just when you think he’s done with amazing you, he amazes you again. Now, after all this time, I was just finding out he could turn snow into a ball. I knew what was coming next, one of my favorite feelings.

 

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The Political Chet

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August 14th, 2019 Posted 9:29 am

Several readers have raised the idea of Chet for president. Without getting into the pros and cons, at least I think we know the elevator pitch. Here, from The Dog Who Knew Too Much (although it comes up in just about every book in the series, although never exactly the same syntactically or contextually, I happened to notice):

“I like just about every human I’ve ever rubbed up against – even the perps and gangbangers – except for the nasty-sounding types.”

 

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The Books



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