I think Donna Moore may be my new favorite writer. But first, some breaking news. This blog has gone over the 1,000 hit mark. That’s amazing, I never thought I’d hit that mark in the lifetime of the blog, let alone in less than a month. Thanks to everyone who has visited and linked me to their blogs. Now, back to Donna. Since she won;t publicize herself, I’m taking it on as my personal mission.
The double Nevermore Award winning Moore has a deft and delightful way of twisting cliches and wringing every last bit of satire, wit, and humor out of them. She has a novel coming out this year from PointBlank Press, but her guest blogging and comments alone are more interesting than half of the tripe published recently. Take this from her comment on Duane Swierczynski’s blog regarding a Philadelphia Noir:
‘The cumulo nimbus was low in the sky when the scaly green alien from the Planet Zog landed his spaceship
in…errrr…some park in the middle of the city. He stepped out of the spaceship, and with one hand buttoned
up his raincoat against the chilly December day. With his left hand he pulled out his .38, and with his third
hand he tipped his fedora at the open mouthed beauty who was walking her dog in the park. Her breasts
looked as though they’d been poured into her dress and then inflated with a bicycle pump. “Hello
shweetheart” (Humphrey Bogart films were big back on the Planet Zog) “I’m a doomed greenish-noir hero
and I’ve come to save your planet from greed and despair. Wanna come back to my spaceship and I’ll
show you my probe?”
Here’s her cozy opening:
It was 6am and I’d been up for a couple of hours baking poppy and sesame seed bread for the children’s
school lunches. While it was baking, I had knitted an afghan depicting the entire solar system as seen through
my telescope in the Den. My ex-husband (before he ran off with the floozy who worked in Macy’s lingerie
department) used to say I only kept the binoculars to spy on the neighbours but my evening class in
astronomy had led me to turn my telescope on the heavens, as well as the neighbourhood. I was busy making
Christmas ornaments for the school fete, waiting for the bread to cool, when the phone rang. I turned off the
circular saw, removed my goggles and tossed the completed wooden angel with moving limbs into the box
with the other 350 I had made that morning.
This is my favorite part and comes later in the piece when the detective meets the lead cop:
His face lit up. “Oh thanks Mrs Minderson. This case is really baffling. I’m not sure where we go from here.
Look, this is the poker that was used to bash Mr Lyle’s head in. I don’t know why I’m carrying it around, it’s
unlikely to be of much use.”
I looked at the poker “Hang on. Isn’t that a bloody fingerprint there on the handle?”
Here is part of her hardboiled offering:
First time Evie LaDame walked into my office I knew she was gonna cause me trouble. Maybe it was the
way her buttocks wriggled like a bucketful of eels in that tight red dress. Maybe it was the way her gams
went all the way to the floor. Or maybe it was because she said in that husky voice of hers “Moose, I’m here
to cause you trouble”. Moose. That was me. Mickey Moose – Private Dick, that’s what it said on the door.
I encourage everyone to check out the full offering at Donna’s site and to clamor for her novel “…to Helena Handbasket” when it comes out. And Donna, there’s a World’s Wreally Worst Interview with your name on it.