Spinetingler published my story "The Colombian" this morning.

One day in Parramatta I bought some fish balls from a Thai street vendor.  I could fit so many of them in my mouth at once, she named her dingo after me.  She kept pointing at me, then pointing at the dingo and saying the name.  She didn't speak English, so I had to ask her husband what it meant.  He said, "I translate rough: 'one with heroic appetite.'"

In the following scene, Robert Wakefield is in his car with his daughter Caroline after saving her from a life of drugs and prostitution. It's a shame it got cut from the movie, because dialogue with this much poignancy could have earned Michael Douglas and Erika Christensen a pair of well deserved Oscars.

Guy Ritchie's blockbuster version of Sherlock Holmes may be entertaining, but there were quite a few moments when historical inaccuracies ruined my suspension of disbelief. These are just a few of them.

Beat to a Pulp posted my story "Conjugal" today. Check it out. While you're at it, check out editor David Cranmer's blog, Education of a Pulp Writer. He links to some cool stuff, like an interview with Patricia Highsmith and a documentary about Los Angeles during the time of Raymond Chandler.

Last month, the #1 search term that people used to find this site was "bound to the floor and pounded." Now that I've quoted that exact phrase in a post, maybe I'll get to see a social application of Heisenberg's principle.

It's official. Crime and Suspense will start publishing online again with yours truly as the managing editor. We need submissions, so if you've written any stories where someone gets shot, stabbed, or mugged, check out the guidelines and let me see what you got.

Rob Lopresti posted an excerpt from A Man in Court by Frederic DeWitt Wells at Criminal Brief. It describes a typical session of Night Court in New York City around 1917. Interesting stuff.

How could I not watch a movie that stars both Traci Lords and Richard Roundtree?

Frank Stockton's "The Lady or the Tiger?" has spurned a century of discussion about its ending. Generations of people have mused over what was behind the door.