Crime fiction is often criticized by detractors because it can be formulaic. Two new publications, however, prove that in the right hands, the genre can be as adventurous and envelope-pushing as any other.

First up is Allan Guthrie's latest book, Kill Clock. The book is one described as being for reluctant adult readers. Guthrie told me recently that he was "given a series of author guidelines before I wrote a word of it," and that it "was edited for ease of language. Surprisingly, it actually went through fewer edits than any of my novels. I wrote it, we had one story edit, one language edit based on feedback from a dozen consultants, and that was it done. All very painless and extremely informative."

The story again follows Pearce, a character from Guthrie's debut, Two-Way Split, and the recent Hard Man. it picks up after Hard Man, and finds Pearce confronting someone from his past who brings a sticky -- and deadly -- situation to his doorstep. The sentences may be shorter than usual and the language choices may be a bit simpler than in his other work, but it's still a ripping read. If this appeared as a novella as part of a collection of short fiction (just thank me in the credits for the idea, Al), no one would bat an eye.

The second book is the more challenging of the two. Charles Ardai, head honcho of Hard Case Crime and the man behind the pen name Richard Aleas, wrote The Good-Neighbor Policy several years ago, stuck it in a drawer and forgot about it. That's nothing unique, of course, but the story itself is, for he wrote it in the double dactyl poetic form. Don't worry, I had to look it up, too. Here's what Wikipedia says: "There must be two stanzas, each comprising three lines of dactylic dimeter followed by a line with a dactyl and a single accent. The two stanzas have to rhyme on their last line. The first line of the first stanza is repetitive nonsense. The second line of the first stanza is the subject of the poem, a proper noun (usually someone's name). Note that this name must itself be double-dactylic. There is also a requirement for at least one line of the second stanza to be entirely one double dactyl word, for example "va-le-dic-tor-i-an."

While Ardai doesn't strictly follow those rules -- for the sake of narrative flow he ignores the "repetitive nonsense" edict -- he is able to adhere in spirit to the guidelines to create a 32-page whodunit that is surprising, funny and, of course, poetic.

Captain Mahoney
investigates homicide,
covers a county in
Eastern P.A.
Murders are rarer than
births in the Vatican -
Captian goes flyfishing
many a day.

Lawrence Schimel with A Midsummer Night's Press came across the story and decided to publish it. The resulting book (pamphlet may be more accurate) is an interesting hybrid, and is proof that when talented people are willing to take a risk, something good often results.

Labels: crime fiction