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  • Harry Dolan: Bad Things Happen

    Harry Dolan: Bad Things Happen
    BAD THINGS HAPPEN is a nifty debut, cleverly told and unfurled from the very first line: "The shovel has to meet certain requirements" on through meeting "the man who calls himself David Loogan." There are reasons for concealment, just as there are reasons the editor of a mystery magazine bearing little resemblance to EQMM or AHMM might bring him into the fold, thus catalyzing a series of murderous events. The twists come quickly and the dialogue is sharp and if it falls apart slightly at the end, no matter - I want to read much more from Dolan from now on.

  • Ian MacKenzie: City of Strangers: A Novel

    Ian MacKenzie: City of Strangers: A Novel
    MacKenzie's debut novel reminded me a lot of Paul Auster's NEW YORK TRILOGY, whether it was intended or not, in terms of his choice of words, the thrust of the narrative and the existential nature of the main character (whose first name, incidentally, is Paul) caught up in a snowballing sequence of strange and violent events in and around New York City. MacKenzie straddles the line between thriller and internal examination of a man's failings, and his ability to do so establishes him as a young writer of serious talent and future.

  • Megan Abbott: Bury Me Deep

    Megan Abbott: Bury Me Deep
    In a word: amazing. In more words: Megan Abbott, who has never delivered anything less than an excellent novel, exceeds expectations and takes a very bold and very necessary step forward both in the quality of the prose, the development of her characters and especially in portraying how obsession seeps into the very soul of people, transforming them into their worst nightmares all too easily. Just read this book. And then tell many others to do so as well.

  • Ninni Holmqvist: The Unit

    Ninni Holmqvist: The Unit
    Understandably, echoes of THE HANDMAID'S TALE are hard to ignore in this dystopic examination of a society where fertility is so high a priority that older, single, marginal women are shut away in secret locales to live out the rest of their lives in seemingly perfect harmony - at least, until the "donations" begin. But Holmqvist's marvelous book doesn't browbeat her thesis into the reader and smartly expands her ideas to look at the plight of all marginalized folk, women and men alike, and how the promise of comforts can be the most horrifying of all. Prepare to be disturbed, but prepare further to think about the ramifications.

  • Paula Froelich: Mercury in Retrograde

    Paula Froelich: Mercury in Retrograde
    This is possibly the most perfect novel for today's economically challenged times. Why? Because it has plenty of glitz and glamor and blind items, as befitting a narrative by the deputy editor of Page Six, but Froelich isn't arch or snarky or acid-tongued in the slightest. Her trio of protagonists land in all manner of embarrassing situations but they aren't played for mean-spirited laughs. The New York here is something of a fantasy-land, but not so far off the mark that it's completely unbelievable. Most of all it's clear Froelich remains sincere and optimistic about her chosen city, and has retained her sense of fun. So no need to check your brain at the door, but sometimes it just needs to chill out and relax.

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November 19, 2008

George Chesbro, R.I.P.

George Chesbro, the author of the "Mongo the Magnificent" series of detective novels (as well as many other works of crime fiction) died yesterday after a short illness. He was 68. His official site, Dangerous Dwarf, contains a brief tribute from its webmaster as well as the death notice:

NEW BALTIMORE - George Clark Chesbro, 68, of New Baltimore, died Tuesday, November 18, 2008 at St. Peter's Hospital.

Born in Washington, D.C. on June 4, 1940, he was the son of the late George W. and Maxine (Sharpe) Chesbro.  An author of over 25 novels and nearly 100 short stories, George was a recipient of an Ellery Queen Award and had served as president of the Mystery Writers Association of America.  Earlier in his career, George had worked as a special education teacher at Pearl River and at the Rockland Psychiatric Center where he worked with emotionally troubled teens.

Survivors include his wife, Robin N. Chesbro; a son, Mark Chesbro;, a daughter Michelle Chesbro; two stepdaughters, Rachael  and Leah  Gass; a sister, Judith (Richard) Ragone and many nieces, nephews, great-nieces and great-nephews.

Services are private at the convenience of the family.

In lieu of flowers, those who wish may send a remembrance in his name to the Mohawk and Hudson River Humane Society, 3 Oakland Ave., Menands, NY  12204.

For further reading, see Jon Jordan's interview of Chesbro as well as Clayton Moore's Bookslut feature.

Posted at 10:00 AM in World of Mystery |

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Comments

Aw, no. I'm so sorry to hear this.

Posted by: Clair Lamb | November 19, 2008 at 11:26 AM

Another brilliant writer gone. Damn! I love Chant and Mongo!

Posted by: Jen Jordan | November 19, 2008 at 12:59 PM

Oh, this is very sad. Thanks for letting us know, Sarah.

That was one of the first columns I wrote for Bookslut, and it was written out of very genuine admiration for the man. A few days after it ran, I got this email out of the blue.

"Dear Clayton, Your article is obviously heartfelt and tremendously flattering. I appreciate it very much. Thank you. Mongo and Garth send their regards. George C. Chesbro"

Damn.

Posted by: Clayton Moore | November 19, 2008 at 06:45 PM

This sucks. George was the first author I ever corresponded with, by actual letters!

he will be missed greatly.

Posted by: Jon Jordan | November 20, 2008 at 12:38 AM

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