Just taped a Weekend America segment for NPR. It will be broadcast nationally tomorrow October 11. Times and stations here.
The half-hour segment was hosted by John Moe. My two co-panelists were Stacy Grenrock Woods, sex advice columnist for Esquire and Tak Toyoshima, cartoonist.
We talked about the second presidential debate, whether the US government should take over banks, and electronic eavesdropping. My favorite part was when we argued over whether, as claimed by the NY Times, calling elderly people "sweetie" and "dear" was patronizing them to death. As in, killing them. Taking seven years off their lifespan. Really. Tak said that's why he's always rude to old people. He's trying to save them. It was fun.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
President Obama at the UN
Here's the link to a piece I just did for National Review Online, WORLD PHENOM, part of my Tales from the Obama Presidency series. Fun ensues.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
James Crumley Checks Out
I just got some bad news. Otto Penzler, last of the old time publishers, wrote to say the James Crumley died today after a long illness.
If you're not familiar with Crumley's work, you might check Amazon or your local bookstore. Start with The Last Good Kiss and move on from there. Here's the opening sentence of TLGK:
"When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring morning."
If that line doesn't make you want to read more, get off this blog.
The only time I met Jim Crumley was when I was touring for one of my crime thrillers, The Wake Up or Scavenger Hunt. I had a Halloween reading at Murder by the Book, a great independent bookstore in Houston, and the manager, David Thompson, had called a week earlier and asked if I minded if they made it a joint appearance, me and Crumley. I told him I felt like Tiny Tim being asked to do a concert appearance with Pavoroti.
When I arrive at the store that night, the place is packed. Overflow packed. Tall Texans standing in the doorway of the restroom packed. They were all there, of course, to see Jim. I looked around, ready to bolt, when this burly guy walks over to me, puts an arm around my shoulder, tells me his name is Jim Crumley and he's a huge fan of my work. My voice cracked when I thanked him. The readings go well. Crumley announces he won't sign any of his books unless the patron also has bought one of mine. I sign books until my hand gets tired.
Afterwards, we go out to a bar, drink beer and solve the mysteries of the universe. It was the best Halloween I ever had.
God better cut Jim Crumley some slack.
If you're not familiar with Crumley's work, you might check Amazon or your local bookstore. Start with The Last Good Kiss and move on from there. Here's the opening sentence of TLGK:
"When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring morning."
If that line doesn't make you want to read more, get off this blog.
The only time I met Jim Crumley was when I was touring for one of my crime thrillers, The Wake Up or Scavenger Hunt. I had a Halloween reading at Murder by the Book, a great independent bookstore in Houston, and the manager, David Thompson, had called a week earlier and asked if I minded if they made it a joint appearance, me and Crumley. I told him I felt like Tiny Tim being asked to do a concert appearance with Pavoroti.
When I arrive at the store that night, the place is packed. Overflow packed. Tall Texans standing in the doorway of the restroom packed. They were all there, of course, to see Jim. I looked around, ready to bolt, when this burly guy walks over to me, puts an arm around my shoulder, tells me his name is Jim Crumley and he's a huge fan of my work. My voice cracked when I thanked him. The readings go well. Crumley announces he won't sign any of his books unless the patron also has bought one of mine. I sign books until my hand gets tired.
Afterwards, we go out to a bar, drink beer and solve the mysteries of the universe. It was the best Halloween I ever had.
God better cut Jim Crumley some slack.
Monday, August 18, 2008
President Obama talks with Justice Thomas
Posted another "Tales from the Obama Administration" piece in National Review today, this one on Obama's kneejerk smackdown of Justice Clarence Thomas for evidently not having enough legal depth to satisfy Barry O. Really. Honest. Fun ensues.
http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=ZDg5NjI0NzE1OTc2ZDllMDU5NDg5OTdmNjQ3ODQ2NDE=
http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=ZDg5NjI0NzE1OTc2ZDllMDU5NDg5OTdmNjQ3ODQ2NDE=
Friday, May 30, 2008
Mark Steyn Marches On
I'm in awe of Mark Steyn. Not because he's a fine writer and a clear thinker, a descriptive that has never been more dangerous. Heck, I can do a bit of that myself. It's because he speaks just as sharp and insightfully as he writes. I listen to him on Hugh Hewitt's radio show every thursday, and I want to cut out my tongue. I do radio interviews and I either speak too slowly or go on too long, and my best lines invariably come after we've gone to break, and thanks for speaking with us, Robert, you'll have to come back again in a few years.
Steyn reviewed the first book of the Assassin trilogy, Prayers for the Assassin, for the Canadian weekly, Macleans magazine. It remains one of my favorite reviews. The fact that this review contributed to Steyn's troubles with the nitwits at the Canadian Human Rights Commission is proof that God has a sense of humor, but unfortunately for us, it's mostly slapstick and irony.
In a new review for Macleans, Steyn reviews Caliphate, a novel by Tom Kratman, set one hundred years in the future, when an Islamic Europe makes war on North America. It sounds good, and I appreciate Steyn's mention of my work. One hundred years...? Sounds a little optimistic.
Steyn reviewed the first book of the Assassin trilogy, Prayers for the Assassin, for the Canadian weekly, Macleans magazine. It remains one of my favorite reviews. The fact that this review contributed to Steyn's troubles with the nitwits at the Canadian Human Rights Commission is proof that God has a sense of humor, but unfortunately for us, it's mostly slapstick and irony.
In a new review for Macleans, Steyn reviews Caliphate, a novel by Tom Kratman, set one hundred years in the future, when an Islamic Europe makes war on North America. It sounds good, and I appreciate Steyn's mention of my work. One hundred years...? Sounds a little optimistic.
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