Wellington Leg: Much ink is spilled on the dismal state of affairs US publishing represents. After all we’ve been down this road before even before Scott McLellan wrote the WAY WE WERE about the Bush administration. I’m still reeling from the image of Dick Cheney in a cowboy hat addressing graduates at a commencement ceremony: imagine those kids recovering from that. Twenty years of school and they put you on the world stage.
That’s why we stick to crime fiction. The celebrity quotient is fairly low. Some Nixon white house staffers wrote thrillers in the post Watergate twilight of civilization. Twenty years from now when Hillary is still running for president we may look back and see a Golden Age occurred amidst literary hand wringing.
I know what you’re thinking. Golden Ages occur through the miracle of central planning, maximum efficiency, remarkable coincidence. The gentle caress of corporate ownership throttles quality, shortens careers, encourages high concept stories, flattens the yield curve, stunts the mind, screws the pooch. All of these things are true. They become more pronounced during difficult economic times and these are strange days indeed for the economy. All the playground toys are broken. It’s going to be a long hot summer.
But 2008 is a banner year for excellent crime fiction. Publishing programs are as madcap and random as ever but some good stuff is making it through the gauntlet. Authors such as Anna Blundy, Brent Ghelfi, Peter Abraham, Mark Schor, Steve Sidor, Jenny Siler, and Qiu Xiaolong have released tremendous work this year.
Are we in a Golden Age? Bring it on.