…And not a moment too soon. There’s a lot to be said for 2020, and fortunately there are a lot of other people around to say it. I’d rather turn the page and talk about what’s new for this promising new year. I’ve a few items to bring to your attention, and I’ll number them—in order to provide the illusion of purpose and order.

1. A Writer Prepares. In mid-November, when I was last elbowing my way into your inbox, I brought you up to date on a book on which I’d begun work way back in 1994. It was to be a memoir of my beginnings as a writer, and in one feverish week I spewed out fifty thousand words worth of memories. My then-agent tucked it into a multi-book contract, and I never looked at it again; a few years down the line I repaid the publisher’s advance and stowed the manuscript in a closet.

In late 2019, I dragged it out and looked at it. And a couple of months later, this past March, I went back to work on it. 1994’s gush was 2020’s trickle, and I would work on it for a while and then move on to something else, or to nothing at all.

And then, sometime in December, I realized I was done. The book covers my first decade as a professional writer, and ends in 1966 with neither a bang nor a whimper, but with The Thief Who Couldn’t Sleep, the first of my books about Evan Tanner.

A handful of people—well, make that a double handful—have read A Writer Prepares. My wife, my daughters, my agent, my bibliographer, and a few friends and colleagues for whom my experiences were likely to resonate. Their responses were heartening, and made me glad I’d gone ahead and finished the thing.

And when can you read it? I don’t know, but I suspect the answer will be sooner rather than later. I’ve not yet decided on publishing options, though I lean toward bringing it out myself, not least of all because self-publishing is so much faster. You’d think I’d be patient, given that I was apparently comfortable letting the book take a quarter of a century to get written. But as I grow older, I realize that the only trouble with instant gratification is it takes too damn long. If I self-publish, you’ll be able to read A Writer Prepares in 2021. Stay tuned; I’ll keep you posted.

Meanwhile, here’s something you can order right now:

2. Hunting Buffalo With Bent Nails. A few years ago I brought out The Crime of Our Lives, a collection of my essays and articles about crime fiction and the writers thereof. For better or for worse, I’ve also had a lot to say on no end of other subjects, and it’s all gathered up here, in a gorgeous 500-copy signed limited edition from Subterranean Press. The haunting cover’s the work of Ken Laager, and as for what’s inside, here’s some of Subterranean’s pitch:

Whether recounting his exotic travels (“After two weeks of long rides and low rations, we left our wretched Jeeps and mounted Bactrian camels, striking out across the sand in search of a lost city”) or expressing his love for his adopted hometown (“I was ten and a half when I fell in love with New York”), whether penning an in-depth appreciation of the work of his friend and fellow Grand Master Donald E. Westlake or an account of his tour of a modeling-clay factory in Indiana—or his brief stay in a Mexican jail—Block proves himself once again to be one of our wittiest and most engaging raconteurs. Fans of his seven books on the craft of writing will appreciate his insights on the subject (“Writing is magic, and I say this not boastfully but in wonder. I’m not the magician, waving his wand, pulling a rabbit out of a hat. I’m not sure what I am. The wand, maybe. Or the rabbit, or even the hat.”). And what reader could resist a guided tour of Manhattan’s eccentricities? (“My favorite intersection is that of Waverly Place and Waverly Place. That street, the most resolutely pious in New York, insists upon crossing itself.”) 

You can read more on Subterranean’s order page—and, while you’re at it, you can preorder your copy and make sure you don’t get shut out. There are only 500 copies, priced quite reasonably at $50, and they won’t last.

3.  Dead Girl Blues. If I do wind up self-publishing A Writer Prepares, I’ll have been encouraged by my experience with Dead Girl Blues. This novel, published in June on my 82nd birthday, was a book I hadn’t expected to write, and one I knew would get a mixed response from readers. Kevin Burton Smith of Thrilling Detective picked it for The Rap Sheet as one of his 2020 favorites, and here’s what he had to say:

Block decided to self-publish this dark little morsel, and who can blame him? As the author explains, “I don’t think it’s terribly commercial. And there are elements that will put off a lot of readers.” No doubt, but this is Lawrence Block, folks, and while his book will offend many, and upset even more, God help me, I loved it. It may just be one of the more life-affirming novels I’ve read in years. Strange to say, but it’s true. There’s no doubt the initial crime here, related in first-person—the murder and violation of a young woman somewhere near Bakersfield, California—is sickening, and the subsequent justifications, rationalizations, and philosophical meanderings of the narrator as he drifts aimlessly through the country, changing names and occupations, are disturbing. Yet somewhere along the way, the narrator matures and takes stock of his life, coming to tentative terms with his past, and folding himself into the American Dream. As he becomes a businessman, a husband, and even a father, I began to, um, sympathize with the bastard. I mean, he killed and raped that kid (in that order). And now, years later, he’s living a comfortable suburban life, and he gets to be surrounded by a loving family, all gathered around the television set watching fricking Dateline with Lester Fricking Holt every night? Roger doesn’t deny his past to us, although his family’s in the dark; but as the science of forensics marches on and the minutiae of a middle-class life well-lived piles up, he tries to reckon with his possible, or even probable, future. Until then, though, he writes in his journal and waits for the knock on the door, guilt and doubt never far off. You may think you know where this book goes, but you don’t. Not so much a crime novel as a ballsy and important novel about the very nature of crime, Dead Girl Bluesprods troubling questions about justice and mercy and morality and family, the worth of a life, and the whole existential soup. Put this up on your shelf, right next to Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. I think it belongs there.”

4. Anthologies. 2020 also saw the publication of a new anthology. In recent years I’ve embraced anthologism as the last refuge of the used-up author, as it’s a comfortable way to look as though you’re still in the game without having to write anything. The Darkling Halls of Ivy was last year’s entry in the anthology sweepstakes, its stories all having to do with the world of higher education. (Their other common denominator is their excellence.) As the book was coming together, we explored ways to market it to college and university bookstores—and that looked promising, until Covid came along and all those bookstores closed up shop, along with the colleges and universities that spawned them.

Still, the book got good reviews and generated strong word of mouth, and had no trouble finding an audience. The Subterranean Press limited edition sold out in a hurry, but the book continues to move briskly in ebook, paperback, and hardcover editions. Tantor’s audiobook, with Peter Berkrot and Teri Schnaubelt lending their riveting voices to the enterprise, makes the collection a treat for those of you who have caught on to the delight of reading with your ears.

My secret as an anthologist is simple enough: Recruit outstanding writers and get the hell out of their way. That principle has guided me over the years, and worked like a charm with Dark City Lights and At Home in the Dark, as well as the art-based anthologies (In Sunlight or in Shadow, Alive in Shape and Color, From Sea to Stormy Sea). And it continues to keep my hands off the tiller in my latest venture, Collectibles.

As the title would lead you to suspect, the 17 stories all concern collecting and collectors, and what else do I need to tell you about it? Well, I suppose I could list the contributors.  Junior Burke, SA Cosby, Janice Eidus, Lee Goldberg, Rob Hart, Elaine Kagan, Kasey Lansdale, Joe R. Lansdale, Dennis Lehane, Joyce Carol Oates, Otto Penzler, Thomas Pluck, David Rachels, SJ Rozan, Kristine Katherine Rusch, Alex Segura, and, um, Lawrence Block. I can’t show you the cover yet, but it’s by Ken Laager, and you won’t be surprised to hear that it’s beautiful.

Subterranean will publish a signed limited edition of Collectibles, probably in May; I’ll let you know when it’s available for preorder. And, in May or June, I’ll bring out ebook and print trade editions. And I’m delighted to announce that the good people at Tantor Audio were quick to add Collectibles to their collection.

5.  And that’s not all. Although, now that I think about it, it probably should be. This screed is already longer than you should have to contend with. So I’ll wrap it up with a trio of quick mentions. (And I won’t number these, as that would be confusing. What I’ll do is letter them.)

(A) 2020 saw the publication of The Burglar in Short Order, a single volume that collected all the Bernie Rhodenbarr short stories, along with some essays and articles and newspaper op-ed pieces. I guess Bernie’s fans are ardent, as the book has proved very popular.

(B) James Reasoner blogs about books and magazines in Rough Edges, and he closed out 2020 with a list of his ten favorite books; one of them, I’m very happy to report, is A Trawl Among the Shelves, the thorough and comprehensive bibliography of my work by Terry Zobeck. If you have more than a passing interest in my work, you’ll probably want this book. I refer to it constantly myself, and just checked it after writing about A Writer Prepares; I learned that The Thief Who Couldn’t Sleep was in fact my 71st published book, and that Dead Girl Blues clocked in at #209.

(C) Ten years ago, when I was beginning to find my way in the exciting new world of ebooks and self-publishing, I wrote a book called Afterthoughtsconsisting of brief essays on those backlist titles of mine that I had suddenly become able to make available. It got good distribution as an ebook, but it came off-sale a few years ago when I took more direct control of my backlist. I had it in mind to repubish Afterthoughts, but kept finding other things to do; now, with A Writer Prepares waiting in the wings, it’s clear a new edition is indicated, and I’ve revised and expanded the book accordingly. It should be good to go by spring; as soon as it’s ready, rest assured that I’ll let you know.

And that’s plenty. Thanks for the attention you’ve given to this newsletter, and indeed for the kindness youve shown to my work over the years. Let’s hope 2021 is better for all of us than the mean old year to which we’ve just said goodbye.

Cheers,

PS: As always, please feel free to forward this to anyone you think might find it of interest. And, if you yourself have received the newsletter from a friend and would like your own subscription, that’s easily arranged; an  email to lawbloc@gmail.com with Newsletter in the subject line will get the job done.