23 October 2017

Our Stephen



In anticipation of All Hallow's Eve, five favourite Stephen R. George covers, beginning with 1989's Nightscape. As with all other George titles it was published by Kensington Publishing's Zebra imprint.

I get the impression that children don't have an easy time of it in the author's fiction. I could be wrong. I'm only a few pages into my first Stephen R. George, a book bought for its cover... which is not featured here. You'll have to wait. Torment.

1989
1989
1991
1994
A bonus:

Creature nel cervello [Brain Child]
Milan: Mondadori, 1991

16 October 2017

A Great War Veteran's Pre-War Thriller



Black Feather
Benge Atlee
New York: Scribners, 1939
345 pages
The weapons Britain is supplying to its Arab allies are somehow ending up in the hands of Eastern European fascists and the Foreign Office is not amused. One man, Gerald Burke, is called upon to put a stop to it. An Oxford-educated archeologist-turned-adventurer, Burke seems a good choice; he knows the region, has a good number of contacts, and hails from rural Nova Scotia (Chignecto, it is implied). What's more, Burke comes with Abdula el Zoghri, a manservant who has a talent for getting out of tight spots. 
After accepting the assignment, our hero returns to his Bloomsbury Square flat to find a warning in the form of a black feather, quill-upwards, protruding from the brass plaque bearing his name. The fact that they're onto him doesn't deter Burke from his mission. Burke makes for Marseilles, and is booking passage to Salonika when a pretty Russian girl literally falls into his arms. He knows she's a spy, Zoghri knows she's a spy, and yet they're happy to play along.
So begins my review of Black Feather, the lone novel by war hero and sometime pulp writer Harold Benge Atlee (1890-1978). You can read the entire piece here – gratis – at the Canadian Notes & Queries site.


Object: A solid, somewhat bulky book in bright yellow boards. My copy was a gift from James Calhoun, with whom I wrote the introduction to the latest edition of Peregrine Acland's Great War novel All Else is Folly. This year, James contributed the introduction to the reissue of second novel of the conflict, God's Sparrows by Philip Child.

Access: Five Canadian university libraries have copies, but not Dalhousie, at which he studied and later served as Professor and Chair of the Department of Obstetrics and Gynaecology. Our public libraries – Library and Archives Canada included – fail entirely

The Scribners edition is the only edition. It enjoyed a single printing. Only three copies are listed for sale online – US$30 to US$50 – none of which feature the dust jacket.


13 October 2017

Talking Ricochet in Quill & Quire



Steven W. Beattie's piece on Ricochet in the brand new Quill & Quire is available free online. Some guy named Busby is interviewed. You can read it here.

Busby will be speaking at Bouchercon tomorrow at 5:00 pm.


10 October 2017

Talking Ricochet at Bouchercon



I'll be speaking about Ricochet Books at Bouchercon 2017 as part of the 20 on the 20 Spotlight Sessions this coming Saturday. Please drop by and say hello if you get a chance. Always nice to put a face to a name.

Sheridan Centre
123 Queen Street West, Toronto

VIP Room, Concourse Level

Saturday, October 14
5:00 pm


08 October 2017

Edna Jaques' Award-Winning Thanksgiving Verse



For this Thanksgiving weekend, verse from Canada's beloved Poet Laureate of the Home. First published in 1932, "Thankful for What?" was named New York Times Outstanding Poem of the Year. She received twenty American dollars.
Thankful for What? 

     Not for the mighty world, O Lord, tonight,
          Nations and kingdoms in their fearful might —
     Let me be glad the kettle gently sings,
          Let me be thankful just for the little things. 
     Thankful for simple food and supper spread,
          Thankful for shelter and a warm, clean bed,
     For little joyful feet that gladly run
          To welcome me when my day's work is done. 
     Thankful for friends who share my woe or mirth,
          Glad for the warm, sweet fragrance of the earth,
     For golden pools of sunlight on the floor,
          For love that sheds its peace about my door. 
     For little friendly days that slip away,
          With only meals and bed, and work and play,
     A rocking-chair and kindly firelight —
          For little things let me be glad tonight.

Related posts: