78 books like Out Of Sight

Tolkin doesn’t hit you with belly laughs so much as tickle the upper corners of your mind with his knowing take on the mores and follies of the Hollywood of the late 1980s. (Of special interest to me, as that’s the moment I arrived there to begin my own TV and film career.) The trenchant satire is exemplified by the crime at its center: studio exec Griffin Mill, badgered by threats from some anonymous screenwriter he’s mistreated, focuses his attention on a different C-list scribe and winds up strangling him to death. Get it?  In a business full of writer-killing executives, Tolkin’s big-wig antihero literally kills a writer.

The first novel about legendary private eye Phillip Marlowe is also the first mystery novel that ever made me cry when I turned the last page.

Marlowe’s poetic narration and bruised outsider’s voice offer a cynical but also strangely hopeful perspective on both the shady underworld types and the corrupt high-society folk who fill the “mean streets” down which Marlowe must walk (in Chandler’s much-quoted phrase).

Why hopeful when death–the big sleep–awaits us all? Because a man of principles like Marlowe can still bring a measure of justice in this unjust world, sometimes just by bearing witness.

Westlake gets into the head of a successful career criminal, making available the kind of attitude and thinking that most readers would normally abhor.

Somehow, we don’t in the Parker series. Even as the clever, convoluted plot unfolds, we never stop caring what happens to Parker and we root for him against creepier crooks.

I especially like the authentic feel of the techniques and procedures Parker employs. It’s almost as though Westlake was a criminal himself. His work inspired me to write about what I don’t think most authors have directly experienced—what happens in a therapist’s head.

So I think my books also feel real.

I like this very violent book because it shows how the love of two fathers for their murdered sons overcomes their own racial and sexual prejudices.

One father is a white redneck and the other is a Black ex-con. Their sons married each other and have been estranged from their fathers because of their homosexuality. When they are murdered, these two men must link up and exact both justice and revenge. What a great premise!

Cosby nicely shows how the two men grow to understand and accept each other because of this higher calling. It ends in blood.

Westlake was already a bestselling author of hard-boiled tales of a career criminal named Parker when he created that antihero’s lighter flip side, John Dortmunder, whose compatriots, capers, and consequences all come with some goofy, left-handed conceptual spin. The rock in the title is a famous African emerald, which Dortmunder and his mates set out to boost, only to find themselves having to steal the same gem a second time, and a third—eventually six heists, in all, from progressively impossible fortresses and in progressively outrageous ways. I’m inspired by the whole Dortmunder series’ blend of laugh-out-loud character pieces and genuinely inventive crime writing, and obviously I’m far from alone.

Like Dortmunder, Grimm is an idea man, and his idea for the perfect bank robbery is a doozy: he’ll dress as a clown, hold all the workers and customers in the vault, shoot out the video cameras, negotiate with the cops, take off the clown suit and makeup, “release” himself and his two accomplices as “hostages,” and waltz out of the bank and right past the entire NYPD. The only problem is, getting out of the city proves a lot harder than getting out of the bank. Cronley owes a lot to Westlake, but I picked Quick Change because he repays that debt and then some, with a smirking wit that lights up every page. 

Edward Bunker didn’t just talk the talk, he walked the walk, spending over 25 years in prison for various crimes including armed robbery.

That experience of life in and out of prison meant he knew exactly what he was writing about and the authenticity drips from the page.

No Beast So Fierce is a blistering tale about an ex-con trying his damndest to go straight while the pull of the criminal life tugs harder and harder at him.

It captures that life in all its rawness and brutality. Not an easy read, it’s not for the faint-hearted.

Quentin Tarantino was such a fan of the book he gave Edward Bunker the role of Mr. Blue in his movie, Reservoir Dogs.

The first book in the Hap and Leonard series sees unlikely best friends Hap Collins and Leonard Pine mixed up in the hunt for some missing stolen loot.

Set in East Texas, it’s the friendship between the two main characters that is so brilliantly conveyed in this and the subsequent books in the series that make it really stand out.

Their dry humour, constant ribbing, and put-downs of each other ring so true of and really reminded me of my own close friendships.

This book got me to look at my own friendships as inspiration for the characters I write about – and they’re just great reads.

I’ve loved mysteries since Nancy Drew led me into a life of crime. Mixing in magic adds such zing to the mystery puzzle.

I especially enjoyed the charming Abby Cooper: Psychic Eye. A series of misadventures with a guy cause Abby to become entangled with the local PD, which allows her to bring some pretty bad guys to justice. I love Abby’s engaging voice and her spirited outlook. Especially appealing is that she believes herself to be different from others, someone who doesn’t fit in. Yet she also sees herself as shockingly normal compared to the oddballs who come to her for readings. Yet Abby finds humor in the irony of her situation.

If you like your magic mixed with mysteries, you’ll find this book fun.

Nature takes on different meanings in the landscape of the post-industrial city. On a city block in the middle of a shrinking city, the return of green space can signify abandonment, disinvestment, and decay instead of healing, flourishing, or balance. Cialdella brings much needed nuance and historical context to the place of nature in postindustrial Detroit, providing a wider range of stories about the ways in which gardens and green, from the wide expanse of Belle Isle to urban potato patches and backyard sunflowers, have helped connect communities to the city and each other. Nature in the city doesn’t replace people; it helps them flourish.