But As If To Knock Me Down, Reality Came Around

Knocked out by a sinus infection as winter slowly releases its grip on the Heartland of America.  Dwelling on happier days seems to help.  And, despite what was said on a recent episode of "Parks and Recreation" about time-shares in Muncie (yes, I am still vigilantly watching for slights against my hometown, Amy Poehler, and I died a little inside) we are hoping for sunshine soon.

A recent search on Bing, neighbor's daughter shows up at my door with debris from oak trees screaming, has to be an all-time classic and I'm sure has a complicated story all its own.  But sometimes people come here with questions about other John Daltons who have done much better than me in life.  But, as a public service, I will try to answer these questions as best I know how.

how tough is a hickory stump?
 I've had to pull a few stumps in my day, and there's no such thing as an easy stump.

 great criminal detective books?
So many, but here's five off of the top of my head:  The Little Sister by Raymond Chandler, The Bride Wore Black by Cornell Woolrich, The Dain Curse by Dashiell Hammett, The Heat's On by Chester Himes, When the Sacred Ginmill Closes by Lawrence Block.


unusual or whacky eating establishments in indiana?
I've tried many, but what comes to mind right away is Maid Rites just across the border in Greenville Ohio.

what other accompelments did john dalton have in his career?
Well, in addition to my sordid life in b-movies, I also like to draw comics.


Until later, I am at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Life In A High-Rise Can Make You Hungry

We keep hearing that the Arts in Indiana are in trouble, and perhaps the evidence is finally here; I have been asked to serve again on the Media Panel of the Indiana Arts Commission and will be once more judging the Phantoscope Film Festival.

I enjoy judging Phantoscope. It is a regional high school film festival hosted in the town where I work It's great to meet the future filmmakers who are going to kick me off of the narrow precipice I stand on.

Since judging this Fest, I have seriously met one pretty talented young filmmaker and one insanely talented young filmmaker. And loyal readers know I was talking up this dude about five years ago (now he's in Sundance) and gave this young lady her first chance at play-by-play announcing (now she works for Fox Sports). So despite my other shortcomings and failings, I do have a good eye for talent.

I'm not sure you can say the same for Knopf Publishing, who apparently think I am a great and powerful blogger of note. They sent me a nice proof of Stieg Larsson's The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest as a thank you for hosting a contest for his last book. I am not normally one of those bloggers who try to grab freebies with both hands (which are plentiful in the blogosphere) so the only thing I can figure is Knopf knows how much I loved The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and that have told many people that with no hope for reward. Strangely, I was just finishing up Arnaldur Indridason's The Draining Lake when this showed up in the mail and I have jumped right into it. Thanks to Knopf for bringing great Scandinavian mysteries to these shores and cheering up my long winter nights.

Until later, I am at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Some Stars That Fell From The Sky, Living Up On The Hill

Loyal readers of my blog know that I spent a few summer vacations working at the Microcinema Film Festival in Rapid City SD and later in Palatine IL; now that beloved Palatine crew have launched their own festival right here. These folks ran a nice fest, and I always enjoyed my visits to this lovely Chicago burb, so any of my filmmaking peeps reading, submit away.

We are finally coming out of a long cold sucko winter. It was so bad I actually felt better after watching The Seventh Seal on cable. I think I put a nail in winter's coffin after coming back from Fort Myers Florida yesterday, visiting my in-laws in a retirement community there. Feeling the sun on my face meant so much it doesn't even bother me that I got food poisoning and vomited one night.

I don't have a lot of wisdom to offer, but one thing I know is that you have to keep your mouth closed when you fill the water softener and change the cat litter. To this list I can also add that you should never eat at a seafood place that is adjacent to a flea market.

Speaking of microcinema, an old pal, Canadian filmmaker Jon Ashby, answers some of my earlier philosophical rants here (at least I think he wrote this after reading my blog).

I too hope I am coming out of a long hibernation. For the second time in the last five years I made monumental changes in my day job and took a year off from the freelancing world. Somehow, the direct-to-DVD market and Fangoria Magazine survived my absence. But that year is almost up, marking a triumphant return to a world that didn't notice I was gone.

More later; until then, give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Canned Heat

Edison-Ford Winter Estates, Spring Break 2010. Who knew Henry Ford liked square dancing so much?

Book Beat

My latest column for POMP AND CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE, the magazine for the Magna Cum Murder Mystery Conference:

LONDON BOULEVARD by Ken Bruen
Low-level thug fresh from jail lands a handyman job (of sorts) with a fading stage actress and her mysterious butler in Ken Bruen's London Boulevard.
Ken Bruen is a hard-boiled Irish crime writer whose novels about quasi-detective Jack Taylor I have enjoyed for a while; but they are so relentlessly cold-blooded I usually like to leave a little space between reading them.
In perhaps Bruen's only nod to whimsy (that I'm aware of), this stand-alone novel is based on one of my favorite films, Sunset Boulevard, recast for the hard-bitten underworld.
Strange as it sounds, it works, and allows Bruen to riff on other pop culture references from books, movies, and music, giving this noir a looser feel.
A good entry point to Ken Bruen and an enjoyable read overall.

9 DRAGONS by Michael Connelly
L.A. police detective Harry Bosch investigates a convenience store robbery that seems to have triad connections in Michael Connelly's latest thriller 9 Dragons.
I have been a longtime Connelly fan and find his Harry Bosch series one of the best contemporary mystery series (along with Walter Mosley's Easy Rawlins stories). After a bit of a lull, his last several novels have come back strong.
This one is a real change of pace, as Bosch's ex-wife and daughter, now living in Hong Kong, get caught up in the action when the daughter goes missing. Bosch immediately takes off for Hong Kong and ends up on a nightmarish journey as the clock ticks and the bodies pile up.
9 Dragons is especially high octane, and I have always enjoyed Connelly's clipped journalistic prose. A good jumping on point for thriller readers, but more rewarding for longtime fans.

THE LONG FALL by Walter Mosley
Extremely tarnished P.I. Leonid McGill tries to go straight (or at least less crooked) when he gets wrapped up in multiple revenge plots in Walter Mosley's The Long Fall.
Mosley is one of my favorite contemporary mystery authors, and I have found his Easy Rawlins novels consistently good. In that series, Mosley traces the adventures of an L.A.-based quasi-detective from the end of World War II through the Red Scare and to the Watts riots and beyond. The political and social milieu of the Rawlins series adds much to the storytelling.
Here McGill is a contemporary detective, on the other side of the country in New York. And where the Rawlins series is shot through with hints of Chester Himes and Ross Macdonald McGill is much more Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. Mosley's writing is equally admirable here and I thought this was a great start for what I hope is a new series.

NEMESIS by Jo Nesbo
Oslo's crumpled cop Harry Hole is back in Jo Nesbo's Nemesis, in which our troubled hero tries to get out of the frame for an ex-girlfriend's murder while tracking a murderous serial bank robber.
Nesbo's first Scandinavian thriller translated into English, The Redbreast, was one of my favorite books of the last year or so. The Redbreast dealt with the emotional and political repercussions of Norway's Nazi involvement in World War II. This new one picks up a lot of themes and characters from his previous novel but, lacking the historical context, doesn't have quite the dramatic resonance of the prior outing.
That being said, Nemesis is a crackling good thriller with a great protagonist that reminds me favorably of Michael Connelly's notable series detective Harry Bosch. I like moody Scandinavian thrillers as a change of pace from American writers, but find that Nesbo has more the stylings of his U.S. counterparts with breakneck storytelling, linear action, and sardonic humor.
Recommended, with the caveat that you should read The Redbreast first. I am looking forward to Harry Hole's next adventure.

ROAD DOGS by Elmore Leonard
A paroled bank robber readily slips into his old life with a fake psychic and her crime lord boyfriend even as the police have him in their sights in Elmore Leonard's easygoing crime novel Road Dogs.
I have been a longtime fan of Leonard, but in the latter part of his career he has been a bit hit and miss. This is a good novel for longtime fans, though, as it features a handful of characters from previous novels (including the George Clooney character from Out of Sight). However, for three quarters of the novel they stand around and assess each other's coolness and tell stories; only during the last bit of the novel does the story come to life with double and triple crosses and bursts of violence.
Overall an enjoyable tale, though again not at the top of Leonard's admirable bibliography.

MOTHERLESS BROOKLYN by Jonathan Lethem
Frank Minna is a former minor criminal trying to become a major private eye in Jonathan Lethem's detective novel Motherless Brooklyn. But Lethem always bends genres and upends expectations, so Minna is dispatched in the early going, leaving his sidekick, an orphan suffering from Tourette's Syndrome, to find Minna's killer.
Very fine, offbeat novel from Lethem, paying homage to Raymond Chandler the way some of his other novels are nods to greats like Philip Dick (Gun, with Occasional Music), Steve Gerber (Fortress of Solitude), and so on. I enjoy how Lethem always writes a fully-realized worldview featuring Brooklyn past and present, which adds a lot to his work.
I am a big fan of Lethem and liked this novel about as well as I thought I would. Recommended.

CITIZEN VINCE by Jess Walter
On the eve of the 1980 presidential election, a semi-reformed criminal in the Witness Protection Program makes one last attempt to bury his past in Jess Walter's darkly comic crime novel Citizen Vince.
With its engaging characters, spot-on dialogue, and sense of time and place (early 80s Spokane) Walter brings to mind some of the best work of Elmore Leonard, Lawrence Block, and Ed McBain.
Really fine writing--especially in creating a parallel story between our protagonist's troubles and the Reagan/Carter race--gives Citizen Vince a more literary bent.

FOUR KINDS OF RAIN by Robert Ward
A broke but noble activist and therapist decides he's sick of both titles when he sees a chance to steal a priceless work of art from an unstable patient in Robert Ward's riveting modern noir Four Kinds of Rain.
I haven't found a lot of noir that I liked since the great Gold Medal era of pulp writing, but Ward's novel belongs on the list of contemporary classics. It compares favorably to another modern favorite of mine, Scott Smith's A Simple Plan, which features literary writing with genre trappings.
And Jim Thompson himself couldn't frown upon the unreliable narrator depicted here, whose vast narcissism and cold rationalization of his actions cause the events to unravel in the bloody final chapters.

HOUSE DICK by E. Howard Hunt
The house detective in a big Washington hotel helps a damsel in distress and ends up in the middle of robbery, extortion, and murder in E. Howard Hunt's muscular noir House Dick.
I am a fan of the Hard Case Crime line, which brings back forgotten pulps with lurid new covers, the perfect place for this story of the lost world of house detectives, hat-check girls, newsies, and lunch counter short-order cooks.
In the stranger than fiction category, this one comes from the pen of E. Howard Hunt, Watergate conspirator and very competent and prolific genre writer (under a number of pseudonyms). I have picked him up wherever I come across him and have always found his writing solid.

MLK Straycation

Westcott House, Springfield Ohio. I always had heard Frank Lloyd Wright was odd but I didn't realize he was truly wacky until I saw his work firsthand.

The Disco Ball Is Just Hanging By A Thread

I'd like to ring in 2010 by giving a quick shout-out to my pal, Cuban filmmaker Miguel Coyula.  Quite a few years ago now myself and some pals ran a site called Microcinema Scene which dealt with the emerging grassroots DV movement.  At that time we got probably 5 to 10 tapes and DVDs a week from all kinds of filmmakers from backyard horror directors to true auteurs.

But there was nothing quite like Red Cockroaches, a Shakespearean-sized sci-fi epic shot in NYC for $2,000 that looked like two million (with a priceless storyline too baroque to go into here). We realized then that we had found microcinema's first true rising star.

In 2004 I was a judge at Microcinema Fest in Rapid City, South Dakota, as well as taught video workshops at the Dahl Arts Center with Boston-area filmmaker Jason Santo. Santo connived to get Red Cockroaches screened at the Fest, which basically blew the face off of Mt. Rushmore and the minds of everyone in a several-mile radius. But I did Jason one better by conniving to share a dorm room with Miguel at National American University during the Fest.

Ah, how young and full of hope we were then; I was just getting going as a screenwriter in the direct-to-DVD market with Among Us hitting the shelves and Miguel had just finished his first major feature. And today, Miguel has a movie playing at Sundance and I...well, perhaps it's better to dwell on the success of friends.

Strangely, it has been almost ten years since I gave myself, on my 34th birthday, one year to break into screenwriting. And every year on my birthday I take stock and decide whether I want to keep going one more year.

In between, I was hired to write or re-write twenty screenplays: PLAYER IN THE GAME (Myriad Entertainment Group), MECHANIZER (Sterling Entertainment), AMONG US (Polonia Brothers Entertainment/Intercoast), BURNING GROUNDS OF THE UNDEAD (Polonia Brothers Entertainment/Intercoast), PETER ROTTENTAIL (Polonia Brothers Entertainment), RAZORTEETH (Polonia Brothers Entertainment), GIZZARD GUTS (Polonia Brothers Entertainment), DEMONS ON A DEAD END STREET (Polonia Brothers Entertainment), DEAD LAKE (for producer Bob Dennis), SEX MACHINE (Asphalt Planet), THE PAYBACK MAN (for producer Ivan Rogers), DEAD KNIGHT (Cine Excel), COWBOY (for producer Terrence Muncy), SPLINTERHEAD (Polonia Brothers Entertainment), PRIMAL (Sterling Entertainment), NEW JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH (Polonia Brothers Entertainment), MENTAL SCARS (for producer Richard Myles), and three scripts under nondisclosure.

Twenty screenplays in ten years has a nice ring to it, really.

You can buy or rent or see on TV or see at a film festival six of these (MENTAL SCARS just came out this December on DVD). They are on Amazon and Netflix and ebay and available in dollar bins on DVD double features.

One other came out without any of my rewrite. One I think is still stuck in post-production. Two started shooting but never finished. The rest...well, you just never know what might happen.

Somewhere in there I found time to write a few specs, including HANDS DOWN, ONIBOCHO THE DEMON KNIFE, RING OF THE SORCERESS, ROOK, and my modern dress/original prose adaptation of Shakespeare's TIMON OF ATHENS (yes, you read that right). Three of those five have had interest at one time or another, but nothing has really happened on them to date.

For aspiring screenwriters, that's right; nobody has ever bought one of my specs, which I mostly wrote for fun anyway.

I have been proud of everything that left my keyboard and I have never used a pseudonym, two things I promised myself I would hold to all those years ago.

Part of the reason I haven't blogged much lately is that on 2009's birthday I just flat didn't know what to do next.

I took a lot of 2009 off from freelancing. I had done it once before, for the entire year of 2006, when a lot of personal and professional changes warranted it. This year, I changed jobs again and thought I would take six months off, which more or less turned into a year when I turned down two mockbusting jobs knocking off TWILIGHT and 2012. The good thing is that every time I take some time off there are still people that want me when I come back.

Way back in 1999 I thought the direct-to-DVD market was going to blow up and need content in the same way that the rise of mom and pop video stores launched the VHS boom a decade or so before. So I was able to position myself to be there when that was needed.

When I started seeing the grassroots DV movement taking off, I was lucky to be able to turn it not only into freelance work but an actual job. But about a summer ago I declared that grassroots DV was dead and it was time to usher in the next incarnation if I could only figure out what that was.

I spent a lot of time looking into social media and certain interesting not only philosophical but technological trends, such as the idea of truly free information and entertainment (like via Creative Commons). Strangely, I worked so hard at it as a freelancer that I got myself another real job doing it and all of a sudden was talking to other people about it.

I am still thinking about what that next-gen model is and how I can get involved in it as a freelancer. If 2010 brings less talk about rubber-suited monsters and more on these philosophical subjects, I apologize in advance. It will take something special or of great interest to me to keep doing what I have been doing for the past ten years on the freelance front. But time will tell.

Give me a shout at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Nerd Roadshow

Found by a friend's mom in the attic and given to said friend who was eager to just throw these relics of his childhood in the trash, rescued at the eleventh hour by yours truly. Yes, that's some 60s Silver Age Spider-Man, X-Men, Daredevil, Nick Fury Agent of Shield, Batman, Adventure Comics featuring the Legion of Super-Heroes and an admirable slice of Gold Key Turok, Doctor Solar, Magnus Robot Fighter and more. Not to mention all the stuff I didn't care to take a picture of, like old Harvey comics, Uncle Scrooge, and a ton of Archie comics.

52 Weeks, 52 Books

This was the second year in a row that I vowed to read 50 books in a single calendar year. Somehow I was able to squeeze in 52. In retrospect, I had several snowbound days and a handful of beach days that helped up the numbers a bit. I could have used a few more beach days and less snow days but all's well that ends well.

After swearing off at the end of 2008, I think I will go for a hat trick and try to read 50 books again in 2010. I am one of those people that have four or five books going at once and I don't see that slacking off any. I ended 2009 reading Assignment Treason by Edward S. Aarons, The Penultimate Truth by Philip K. Dick, House Dick by E. Howard Hunt, Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem and Tamar by Mal Peet (which hopefully will all give me a good head start on 2010).

In the meantime, here are my five favorite books that I read in 2009 and five honorable mentions. If I were to write this list again tomorrow, the top three would probably stay the same but everything else would undoubtedly be up for grabs.

Top Five Reads of 2009:

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.

Lunar Park by Brett Easton Ellis.

The Murderer Vine by Shepard Rifkin.

Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill.

An Evil Guest by Gene Wolfe.

Five more:

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami.

Babylon Babies by Maurice G. Dantec.

Citizen Vince by Jess Walter.

Missing by Karen Alvtegen.

Real World by Natsuo Kirino.

As always, happy reading.

A Long Winter's Nap

Yes, that's a Colts Snuggie, work with pride. Merry Christmas all!

Thanksgiving Season

The desperation of the night before Thanksgiving, the promise of the day to come.

Feels Like the Last Time

Haunted Disco, Farmland Indiana; photo snapped by my daughter on a tour of Ghost Sites of Randolph County last night.

Speeding Bullet

Odd photo my daughter snapped of me at a Halloween party last night at our house of my lame Superman costume. She thought it was a "just being a nerd" costume, which isn't a costume at all.

Don't Cross His Path

For Halloween, a black cat; Pluto, a stray we rescued and appropriately named after the Lord of the Underworld, in his favorite hangout "The Hobo Shack."

Dogs and Cats, Living Together

On Halloween, the laws of the Animal Kingdom are suspended.

They Were Dancing, And Singing

Birthday card given to me that blasts "Play That Funky Music, White Boy." Kids say this looks like a picture of me on cover.

The March of Time

Picture I found at my parents' house of me in 1971, taken on my birthday in 2009. Daughter laughing while taking photo.

All Creatures Great and Small

What Empty Nest Syndrome looks like. Getting ready to walk my one-year-old Westie with the help of a six-week-old stray kitten while my fifteen-year-old Tabby looks on sourly from off camera.

Find A Girl With Faraway Eyes

My contest for "The Girl Who Played With Fire" is finally over and a winner has been chosen. The contest has taken a bit longer than expected, now that I check in on my blog and see it's been a while since I posted. In my defense, the novel is a pretty chunky 500 page opus and I have been fairly busy (though I was trying to read it quickly as per the rules clearly outlined here).

The good news for our lucky winner is that my close friends at the Farmland Public Library got it to check out (probably for me; I have gone to this nice little library for 15 years and they are beginning to know what I might want to read, a plus for small-town living) so I decided to quit reading the copy from Knopf and finish the library's (though I think I am also the first one to read it as well).

Without further ado, the winner is Rue, and as soon as she emails me her address she will receive a nice copy of Stieg Larsson's latest that was only a little bit read. For sore losers, I have some odd little "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" tattoos that Knopf sent along and I will be glad to give one to any contestant that asks.

Thanks for playing! Until later I am at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

Got To Move To The Trick Of The Beat

I have read almost 200 pages of The Girl Who Played With Fire this week, so the contest is well underway (scroll down for details). Lots of good book ideas have been submitted via email and by posting below. As the contest ends when I am finished reading this book, and the book is about 500 pages, I figure you have another week or so to enter. I am trying not to read the prize while eating or sitting on the toilet for the contest's sake.

For those who can't believe I passed on going to GenCon, the world's premiere D&D event, to talk about social media at a conference will find photographic proof here and here as well as further evidence here. As a dude who got an electric typewriter to go to college in 1984, forsaking his manual one, I still have a lot to learn, but it was nice to be asked to talk and be amongst the young hipsters who will one day snatch my job from me and leave me broken on the side of the information superhighway.

Plenty going on; until later I am at johnoakdalton@hotmail.com.

The Long and Winding Road

Think b-movie screenwriting is easy, grasshopper? Several years ago I wrote a script I called "Hellshocked" about a group of WWII GIs forced to spend the night in a haunted church behind enemy lines. This was shot and put forth for distribution as "Black Mass." It was sold to the overseas market and did well in Japan as "The Da Vinci Curse" with footage from another already-completed film spliced in. That version came back to the U.S. as "Dead Knight" but didn't get much traction. Now that film has been cut with about 15% newly-shot footage (with another writer) featuring werewolves. Yet through it all my cameo getting machine-gunned straight up in the face has survived.

A Night with the Bums

A photo from my third stop on my quest to visit six ball parks this summer, breaking my old record of five, set a few years ago in a bout of Nerd Extreme Sports. Here I am at the Traverse City Beach Bums; a ballpark that looks like an outlet mall on the outside, but the baseball is plenty enjoyable inside. Last week I visited the Richmond RiverRats as my fourth stop at historic McBride Stadium. Strangely, the former Richmond team moved to Traverse City. Even stranger, at one park they yell "Go Bums!" and the other "Go Rats!"

Awake in the Heartland

I was sitting in the barber's chair reading TIME Magazine yesterday when I read this column from one of my film reviewer heroes, Richard Corliss, and for the first time felt compelled to write a Letter to the Editor.

Mr. Corliss,

I am a longtime fan of your work but take issue with your portrayal of Netflix in your recent article.

It is too easy to draw a parallel between the rise of Netflix and the fall of the local video store such as the one you mentioned in Manhattan. However that theory is contingent on the fact that you ever had that option to begin with.

I live in a town with the unlikely name of Farmland, Indiana, in which the closest video store is a Redbox at a McDonald's in a town ten minutes away and the closest Blockbuster is in the nearest city thirty minutes the other direction. There is also where you can find the closest movie theater (that you can't drive your car right up to the screen). I am fortunate to live on a road where the cable service runs past, connecting two towns, but many of my neighbors rely on spotty dish reception or digital rabbit ears.

Netflix is a godsend to me, a person who graduated with a film major in college (reading Film Comment voraciously at the college library), works peripherally in movies and film festivals, and yet lives in several square miles of cornfield. I am also a voracious reader and probably get a second strike for loving Amazon and my new Kindle. The proximity of a hip bookstore to my home does not bear discussion.

Those of us who live in the vast Flyover Country between our two coasts have learned to live without the instant gratification our metropolitan brethren yearn for but do still smart at those who take our cultural lifelines to task.

Me And The Girl Who Played With Fire

Not, as one might suspect, the title of my wife's autobiography but instead the new Stieg Larsson book, which astoundingly Knopf has entrusted me to give away on my blog; one of only 250 bloggers to snag one, so look sharp. Whether I might have been #249 is only speculative. Contest rules below.

Tattoo You

Every once in a while a plugola scandal wafts through the blogosphere--a blogola scandal, if you will--where somebody is blogging merrily along about how great a movie or gadget is and lo and behold it comes out that somebody might have given that something to said blogger for free, contingent of course on them blogging merrily about it.

I can promise that everything you read on here is my own two cents given freely, though loyal readers might suspect that there aren't a lot of people willing to give me freebies to blog about grassroots microcinema, obscure b-movies, old paperbacks, underground comics and zines, and the like. As Blogalicious once pointed out, I am prone to writing about "very weird and unpopular b-movies and comics"--many of which, as it happens, are my own.

That being said, I have been offered a DVD or two from time to time, though some Amazon and Netflix reviewers who have longed for my death--or at least a long incarceration in a b-movie Gitmo of some kind--might speculate that I would more likely be offered blogola to not mention their movie at all. Nonetheless I am glad to have stayed clear. The next time you see a horror or sci-fi movie getting talked about all of a sudden on all of your favorite genre blogs, you might stop and think about why. I'm just saying.

All this is a preface to the fact that Knopf emailed to ask me if I wanted to be one of only 250 bloggers to give away a free copy of The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson.

This is cool for a number of reasons. Loyal readers know I read and loved Stieg Larsson's first book, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and have pimped it mercilessly to the general reading public that I come across on the interwebs and in real life. I have nothing to gain professionally by sucking up to Stieg Larsson as Stieg Larsson is, unfortunately, dead and his books are being published posthumously.

I also liked that Knopf trusted me to give this book away and not ferret it under my pillow. Even though my name is going to be entered for a chance to win the third book for my very self to keep I have never done well in Vegas and am not holding out hope.

Even better, I get to come up with my own contest.

My first thought was that I would ask people to send in a picture of them holding a copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and then I would put their names in a hat and draw one at random. That wouldn't mean that they had read it, but I think they should know it exists before trying to mooch the second one off me (Knopf, actually). And I believe if they read a teensy bit they would probably get hooked like I did.

But my wife nixed that idea, saying she thought I would get a lot of weird or inappropriate photos. She was right; I had simply forgotten how many hot young things flock to my blog regularly to read about old D&D games I have played and what comics I like and what I thought about the new Star Trek movie.

So she suggested a wiser alternative. Send me a list of five good mystery/noir/thriller books. Don't send me your top five because I probably have already read them. In fact I read five pretty good books last week on vacation and can on average read four or five a month. If you happen to include a couple of Scandinavian thrillers in there I will write your name down twice as I am trying to find some more of those for myself. If you don't know what I'm talking about, here is a current list of good ones I have already read:

1. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson (natch).

2. The Redbreast by Jo Nesbo

3. Jar City by Arnaldur Indridason

4. The Princess of Burundi by Kjell Erickson

5. Missing by Karen Alvtegen

Yes, I know there is no Henning Mankel or Karin Fossum on this list, I haven't read their works yet and that's why I want a recommendation.

So. A list of five books. Make it worth reading or I throw your crap in the trash. Your name can go in the hat twice if you include Scandinavian authors. I will pull the name out at the end of the contest, which will be when my ass finishes reading the book for myself. Knopf didn't say I couldn't read it! So your book is slightly used by me. It's free, what do you want?

Send contest entries to johnoakdalton@hotmail.com. Good luck!