Posts Tagged ‘The Iggy Papers’

The Galaxatron

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July 30th, 2022 Posted 6:46 am

There was a very brief pause when Mr. Parsons’ face went still. Then he smiled and said, “In fact, I’ve just come from the Galaxatron,” he said.

“Oh my goodness,” said Mrs. Parsons. “Were you in it?”

“Not actually in,” Mr. Parsons said. He turned to Bernie. “Did Edna mention the Galaxatron?”

“I was coming to it,” said Mrs. Parsons.

“I’m all ears,” Bernie said.

Better stop right there. Not that Bernie’s ears are tiny or anything like that. Far from it. But stepping back and taking a good look you see right away that Bernie’s ears are just a small part of the whole package. Then came one of the strangest thoughts of my whole life: Did Iggy worry about things like this? I glanced over toward the water the water bowl. Iggy was still there, but now on his back, paws in the air, eyes closed.
No worries about anything.

“The way Ricardo puts it,” Mr. Parsons said, “is that the Galaxatron just gives you a little boost on the way you already know how to go. But there’s science behind it, even if not fully understood.”

“What kind of science?” Bernie said.

“Electromagnetism,” said Mr. Parsons. I began to lose concentration at that point, and I got the idea that Mrs. Parsons did, too. Soon Mr. Parsons was drawing on a sheet of paper and saying things like “anomaly in the crust,” “vast iron deposit,” and “nodal point in the earth’s magnetic field.” I was considering lying on my back with my paws in the air when he said, “And the context for all this is the electrical nature of mental activity,” and came to an end.

(from the Iggy Papers, one of the short stories in this new collection)

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Beginnings

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June 26th, 2022 Posted 8:55 am

Sunday is for beginnings, when we take a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™. Since Short Tails, the new Chet and Bernie short story collection, comes out on Tuesday, how about we go with the start of one of those stories, The Iggy Papers?

“Well lookie here,” said Nixon Panero, the best car repair dude in the whole Valley, reaching deep into the engine of the Porsche, not the old one that had gone off a cliff or the older one that got blown up, but the oldest – meaning our new one – with the cool martini glasses on the fenders, a beautiful touch added by Rui, Nixon’s paint guy who happened to be a real artist, trained by Andy Warhol, whoever he happened
to be. Or possibly someone who’d met Andy in lock-up, if I had the story straight. Nixon was also our buddy, although he’d been a perp at one time, a perp we’d collared and sent up the river, collaring perps being what we do at the Little Detective Agency, me and Bernie. It’s called the Little Detective Agency because Bernie’s last name is Little. I myself get along very well without a last name. Call me Chet, pure and simple. The river, by the way, has no water in it. Water’s a problem out here, hard to understand since all our golf courses – and we’ve got them out the ying yang – are nice and green. It’s all about the aquifer, Bernie says, and once I’d seen the aquifer with my own eyes, nothing but a tiny puddle way down at the bottom of a deep construction site, which was when I knew he was right. The lesson? Bernie is always the smartest human in the room. Just remember that and you’ll be OK.

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Short Tails

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June 18th, 2022 Posted 8:26 am

“Point one,” Bernie said, bright and early next morning, the two of us chowing down on our patio.

We were doing the points thing already? I knew today was going to be good.

“What harm can it do them? Point two, is the science settled? Why shouldn’t we be able to get in touch with our immune systems? There are more things than are dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio.”

Horatio? Uh-oh. And we’d been off to such a good start. But the only Horatio we knew was a hamster of that name who’d ended up with a stolen wedding ring under all the shavings in the cage, although I don’t think he was the actual perp. Were his dreams now important all of a sudden? What would a hamster dream about? And then it hit me: running around on that wheel. How horrible!

(from The Iggy Papers in Short Tails, coming 6/28 but you can preorder right this second!)

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Iggy

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June 4th, 2022 Posted 6:26 am

Meanwhile Iggy came nosing in toward the water bowl, his water bowl you might say, which he was happy to share with his good buddy. Me. Chet. I had no problem with sharing! And in seconds his enormous floppy tongue – so out of size with the rest of him – was swishing back and forth in the bottom of the bowl like a strange windshield wiper. On a rainless day, I should add, because the bowl was dry as –

But what was this? Bernie suddenly leaning in and pouring a glassful of water into the bowl?

“Iggy’s turn, Chet.”

Iggy’s turn? What did that even mean?

(from The Iggy Papers, 6/28, pre-orderable)

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