Our end-o’-week roundup of what you missed while working for The Man!

The holidays are a time of belt-tightening here at the BOOKGASM offices. Our esteemed editor, Rod Lott, usually buys hugely extravagant presents for his wife and children in a vain attempt to buy their love, and the cash for that comes straight from BOOKGASM’s central coffers. Hey, he’s the boss, but unfortunately I get paid by the word, so the long-format REGASM of days past has been retooled. What you’re seeing today is a slicker, cleaner, more succinct (can’t you tell?) REGASM that should last at least until Jan. 14, so hang on to your hats! I’m spinning the wheel and picking my top BOOKGASM posts of the week!

C’EST L’AMOUR
While ostensibly reviewing Peter Brandvold’s Western HELL ON WHEELS, Doug Bentin also poked some holes in the whole “the next Louis L’Amour” blurb you always see on Western novels, and it’s the truth. (In my opinion, “the next Louis L’Amour” is, in fact, Stephen King, gunslinger or no gunslinger.) Genius insight aside, HELL ON WHEELS would seem to do L’Amour proud, with ex-cons and sexy mutes, bribery and hangings, and plenty of extra-damaging bullet wounds. In other words, just like Detroit or the Planet of the Apes. That gives me an awesome idea for the future of Westerns, by the way: DR. ZAIUS: MEDICINE CHIMP.

HIT AND RUN
In day-to-day matters, Rebecca Brock is about the nicest person you could meet. Affable and charming, she’s really a shining light of positivity in an otherwise darkening world. But don’t give her a crappy book. Seriously. Case in point: Barry Hoffman’s BLINDSIDED. Brock led her review with “appallingly abysmal,” and it only got worse from there. Judging from her description, BLINDSIDED was probably written on a dare, with this being what the loser had to do if the Bears lost in the playoffs. I can hear the conversation:

Dude #1: Dude, if the Bears lose, you totally have to write a crappy book and get it published.
Dude #2: You’re on, dude. The Bears are totally going to win. What do you want this purely hypothetical stinker to be about?
Dude #1: A bounty hunter. No, wait, a chick bounty hunter who looks like that Counselor Troi from STAR TREK. And she’s got tattoos on her boobs and likes to walk around displaying said boobs to everyone. And the cover has to have boobs on it, too. Oh, and there has to be a magic forest.
Dude #2: Why?
Dude #1: As an expression of my inner whimsy, you dolt.

It’s never good to do anything on a dare, be it drink a bottle of Tabasco or wear your underwear on the outside of your pants, and BLINDSIDED is apparently no exception, at least for the sober among us.

DON’T STAND SO CLOSE TO ME ‘06
When I read Rod Lott’s review of MY LOLITA COMPLEX AND OTHER TALES OF SEX AND VIOLENCE, my first thought was, “They’ve read Rod’s diary, too?” My second thought was “Oooh. This triggers my Max Allan Collins Complex. Must. Buy.” The title really can be a great indicator of the quality of work within, especially in the crime arena, and Collins knows his readers (perhaps a bit too well). Seriously, the dude always gives me exactly what I need to read, so much so that I expect his next book to be THOSE KEYS YOU’RE LOOKING FOR ARE IN YOUR POCKET or ONLY BUY ONE McRIB, FATASS. MY LOLITA COMPLEX (I feel dirty just typing it) is a juicy collection of nine short stories, some featuring licensed worlds, others set in just Collins and cowriter Matthew N. Clemens’ twisted version of reality. Either way, I’ve got an irresistible urge for MY LOLITA COMPLEX. Sorry, I couldn’t possibly resist.

OBI-WAN HAS TAUGHT YOU WELL
Finally, the lessons I’ve been trying to teach Allan Mott are starting to stick. To wit: this week’s FRAMES O’ REFERENCE.

THROWAWAY STONES TOME
With an encyclopedic knowledge of everything Stones, staff writer/noir antihero Bruce Grossman knows EXILE ON MAIN ST. In fact, EXILE ON MAIN ST. was a good friend of his. Unfortunately, Robert Greenfield’s EXILE ON MAIN ST.: A SEASON IN HELL WITH THE ROLLING STONES is no substitute. Yes, yes, rock stars take lots of drugs; that’s something kids learn in grammar school nowadays. And I hear that the members of superstar rock groups sometimes don’t get along, i.e. Mick and Keith, Paul and John, Ringo and John, George and John, Milli and Vanilli, etc. It: a) doesn’t sound like hell to me (it does, however, sound like a title that was ripped off from EDDIE AND THE CRUISERS), and b) isn’t something I’d buy a book to read about, especially when the author says his book isn’t especially good. So take Bruce’s advice: Pick up A JOURNEY THROUGH AMERICA WITH THE ROLLING STONES instead.

PASS ME THE ISSUES
Louis Fowler keeps fighting the good fight, buying single issues of comics when the fashion is to “wait for the trade.” His case is extremely strong this week in LOUIS’ SERIOUS ISSUES, and for every crappy BLADE book or issue of MEH-SCAPE OF THE LIVING DEAD (imitation=flattery), there’s the evil Norrin Radd goodness of EXILES #87, a finally good reinvention of Damian Hellstorm (didn’t his name used to be Hellstrom?) or a badass Tonto that doesn’t step or fetchit for just anyone in a sexy domino mask. Riddle me this, though: With nearly every character I can think of being reimagined, how many are left? If the answer is “not many,” can we please, please, please, bring back Whizzer? Please? He could be totally hard-bitten and leather-wearing, but his whizzing has to be bold as love, and he sits for no man.

I hope all my readers enjoy the all-new, all-different REGASM. There’s more where this came from … next week! –Ryun Patterson

Discuss it in our forums.