MattRees.net

I’ve always considered myself lucky to be a writer. True, I work long hours…compared to the purely idle rich or to a top soccer player who puts in a tough 90-minute week. But essentially the burden on a writer is less the hours spent at writing – which ought to be fun – and more the occasional pondering about one’s self-worth, about one’s writing itself, and about one’s status in the author’s pantheon from piffling to powerful.

Which is why I was amused by the caption to The New York Times’s article this weekfeaturing crime writers who’re now being asked by publishers and agents to write short stories and extra features to help publicize their novels – or even to write a second novel a year. (In the print version, though not on the web) the caption told us that Lisa Scottoline works “a brutal writing schedule” which sees her tapping away from 9 a.m. “until Colbert” comes on at 11.30. [...]

Jessica Steinberg writes a fine article on The Times of Israel about English-language writers living in Israel and the way in which they’re ignored by the culture around them. The spur for the article is the current Mishkenot literature festival in which none of these local writers are involved. It’s full of international writers on the podium with Israeli-Israelis whose work few of them will have read… Personally I’m happy with the anonymity — given that the only time one of my books was translated into Hebrew it proved to be kind of a pain in the ass….

Today a guest post from my pal Jane Labaton, a fabulous and innovative artist who has a new book out in which she displays her works and asks questions about art. The book is terrific, and so is Jane. [...]

I hok you no chainik when I recommend you read “Farbissen” and “Fakakt,” the great new crime novels of Jasmine Schwartz. Jasmine is an important and hilarious new voice in crime fiction — and that’s no shmontses! Her first two novels “Farbissen: Melissa Morris and the Meaning of Money” and “Fakakt: Melissa Morris and the Meaning of Sex” use Yiddish words for their titles. When you read the stories of Melissa Morris, a neurotic and fashion-obsessed New Yorker, you’ll see why… And we’ll be finding out here, too, as Jasmine is going to be doing an interview with us in a couple of days, taking a break from her troubles with a father who’s remarrying, the musings of her “future ex-husband,” and her struggle to enter the top 1 percent of US taxpayers (see: her blog.)

Kissing the Dead: The Revenge of a Betrayed Hamas Leader

As a special promotion I’m offering this long-form piece of journalism free until Saturday. Read about my other long-form journalism and short stories for download on amazon.

I spent months in Gaza tracking the story of Imad Akel, a Hamas military chief. Akel’s brother was killed by Palestinian police. Imad’s vengeance prefigured the civil war that later split his people and still divides them. This is his dramatic story. Download free to your Kindle from amazon.com in the US. Get the UK edition.

My Poisonville project produces music about crime fiction. Some of the songs are about my books, some about the work of greats like Chandler, and others are collaborations with contemporary writers. This is the title song of the project, the album, the band. It’s based around Dashiell Hammett’s first novel “Red Harvest.” At the start of the book, Hammett’s narrator, a detective called the Continental Op, says that he “first heard Personville called Poisonville by a red-haired mucker named Hickey Dewey.” Later, he says, he heard the name pronounced that way by people who didn’t also called their shirt a “shoit.” The novel shows us why Personville deserved the name. The song was co-written by The Talented David Brinn who plays the accordion. I do the rest. I aimed for a sound like a bunch of crooked hoboes playing in a Poisonville speakeasy.

My novel about the great Italian artist Caravaggio A Name in Blood won’t be out in the UK until July 1. Still the review copies are out there and the It’s a Crime blog gets in first with a very positive mention.

A Name in Blood is a superb tale of intrigue and wrong doing in Renaissance Italy from Matt Rees, author of the award winning Omar Yussef crime series.

There’s also love and art in the novel. But I’m happy for a crime blog to pick up on the intrigue and wrong doing!

The only thing as evocative as a good noir crime novel is music. So, I thought, how about making an album of music about crime fiction? That’s what I’ve done and I unveil it here. The project’s called Poisonville, after the mispronounced location of Dashiell Hammett’s first novel “Red Harvest.” (The place was really called Personville, but Hammett’s Op learns that people call it Poisonville for a reason.) You can listen to the songs free on my website. Share them. I found it inspiring to work on these songs. You’ll see the styles vary from industrial to rock to funk to the sound of hoboes in a speakeasy, as well as my impersonations of Leonard Cohen and Lou Reed.

Download the Podcast: (Download the MP3)
Subscribe via iTunes

The only thing as evocative as a good noir crime novel is music. So, I thought, how about making an album of music about crime fiction? That’s what I’ve done and I’m unveiling it here.

The project’s called Poisonville, after the mispronounced location of Dashiell Hammett’s first novel “Red Harvest.” (The place was really called Personville, but Hammett’s Op learns that people call it Poisonville for a reason.)

You can listen to the songs free on my website. I hope you’ll share them. I’ve found it inspiring to work on these songs. You’ll see the styles vary from industrial to rock to funk to the sound of hoboes in a speakeasy, as well as my impersonations of Leonard Cohen and Lou Reed. [...]

Eric, the scion of a soap fortune, pressed the “Wolf kills visitor” button inside the entrance of his Malibu beach-house. Outside his front door, I heard the approaching growls of an angry hound; a hatch opened and out sprang the three-foot neck of a blue-haired, red-eyed, mechanised wolf, drooling viciously over the welcome mat.
“That’s cool,” said Eric’s friends. Eric smiled and led me inside to his pool, where, he said, there was a monster.
“It’s down this end,” he said. As I peered at the cartoon mermaids on the pool’s floor, a Freddie Kruger model jumped up behind me and sprayed a jet of cold water down my back. [...]