The name's Bond... not quite Bond...

By Russel D McLean

The news this morning that William Boyd is to write the next James Bond novel (I've never read Boyd, so can't speak on his suitability) has got me thinking about series characters outliving their creators and how in novels, as in very few other media outlets, certain characters seem intertwined with their creators.

I've recently been reading some of Titan's New Adventures of Sherlock of Sherlock Holmes. Some are good – maybe even very good. Some are not so good. But none of them feel Conan-Doyle-ish. Much of this is to do with distance. Doyle was a product of his time and place and much as one might replicate his choice of word or sentence structure, one cannot carbon-copy the essential essence or “the voice” of his work. Something like that is beyond mere mechanics.

When I read comic books or watch TV shows, I am usually fine with a change of creative team. Yes, the Spidey of Stan Lee is different to the Spidey of JMS or Bendis or whoever, but I can roll with that, perhaps because the character has just rolled on and on. There was no gap between Lee leaving the character and another writer taking him on. And the same goes for a number of different comic series with some noteable exceptions (If Groo were to return for a new number 1 issue with a creative team that was not Arargones and Evanier, I would weep like a menidcant).

On US TV, different creative teams write different episodes of long running series. I can take JUSTIFIED having a new writing crew each week, or THE WIRE using different scripters in different episodes (albeit under the strict control of a creative showrunner – although, while THE WEST WING was certainly a little different when Aaron Sorkin left, I still found it enjoyable, perhaps because the actors retained the essence and voice of the characters).

I think sometimes we have to know when to leave well enough alone. And as much of an honor as it might be to play in, say, Flemming's sandpit, do we really need anyone to do it? Did we ever need any more Bond beyond what Flemming wrote? Could anyone ever really re-create that special thrill that came from reading Flemming's original novels? In filmic terms, Bond works well with different interpretations from different creative teams at different times, but in the literary, he had always been Flemming's creation.

Let's say that now that Rankin has let him go, someone else took up the mantle of Rebus. Would we be accepting of that? Would anyone really be able to write Rebus books in the way that Rankin did? Or would anyone be able to write Lincoln Rhymne like Jeffery Deaver? I could ask the same of a thousand different creator-owned series characters. And I think we all know that the truth is no one can replicate their voices or the thrill that readers got from discovering these characters for the first time. Not even a skilled writer like Faulks could fool anyone into thinking he was Ian Flemming. But why is it so different from film and TV creations or certain literary series that were always written by varying creative teams?

The thing is, I'm not decrying writers who play in other's sandboxes. I have often talked about the fact that I'd love to write a Doctor Who novel (in fact the first novel I ever submitted was for Virgin's New Doctor Who Adventures) but I do think that things are different where writer and character have become so utterly connected. Holmes and Conan Doyle are linked. Flemming and Bond are linked. Ludlum and Bourne are linked. These series and their authors share a very special chemistry. And in the case of something like Who, the world and the brand were created by multiple creative teams rather than one in isolation and the very essence of the brand relies on reinvention and the injection of new and unique voices.

I realise that in the modern world, brand is all. Audiences, so they're told by those who feed them, like the familiar (something I would ardently disagree with – audiences, even if they don't admit it, like to be surprised) and nothing is more familiar than a strong brand. But what happens when a brand is not just about the character or the setting but the creator? I don't pretend to have the answers, but I find it odd that I feel differently about characters associated with a single author than I do about those who are the product of an evolving creative team.

The Crime Interviews: Volume 2, by Len Wanner

By Jay Stringer

I get sent a lot of ebooks to read and review. To be honest a lot of the stack up simply because I don;t have a dedicated e-reader yet. Soon I'll be treating myself to a shiny kindle touch, and then I'll catch up, but for now everything I read digitally is read on my laptop. And if I'm sat with laptop, then I tend to think I should be writing or researching (or playing Football Manager.) Sometimes a book lands on my inbox that just demands to be read straight away, and when you see one that collects interviews with Ray Banks, Tony Black, William McIlvanney and Helen Fitzgerald, well, I HAVE to check it out.

First let me get out of the way and say what the publisher BLASTED HEATH has to say;

In his foreword, Ian Rankin describes THE CRIME INTERVIEWS: VOLUME TWO as "Fascinating stuff, whether you are a fan of any particular author, or of the genre as a whole, or even of the wider world of Scottish and British Literature in contemporary times. In fact, I may just have to go back and read both volumes again…"

VOLUME ONE brought us page after page of unique insights into how writers think and into the professional secrets of some of the genre's greatest exponents. With THE CRIME INTERVIEWS: VOLUME TWO, once again Wanner's encyclopedic knowledge of Scottish crime fiction is put to expert use in his enthralling and revealing conversations with another inspired line-up of stars of tartan noir. His latest interview subjects include William McIlvanney, Tony Black, Doug Johnstone, Helen FitzGerald, Quintin Jardine, Gordon Ferris, Craig Russell, Douglas Lindsay, Ray Banks and Denise Mina.

I've interviewed writers, both in print and on podcasts, and it comes with a huge pressure to try and find good chat. Len Wanner as a talent for good chat. I'm sure there are more intelligent ways to put it, but it boils down to that. He knows how to sit and have good conversations with his subjects, and to get more involved and open responses than the usual oft-rehearsed lines.

There are running themes that run through the collection, such as Scottish identity and the changing mood of the country. McIlvanney's answers show a man who went from chronicling the lives of the working class, to campaigning for a political party, to now having a more distant and almost philosophical view of the game. Banks on the other hand speaks of letting your subtext do the talking. But this isn't a political book, nor is it a marketing brochure for Scottish fiction. It's a book full of good questions and interesting answers, and really comes to life when the authors start talking craft and content. Does Helen Fitzgerald start with character or plot? How does Tony Black manager to write whilst he does all that grappling with symbolism? How does Ray Banks maintain a balance between writing about violence and celebrating it? And why would I give you the answers to all these questions when you can pick up the book and let the authors do it themselves?

Last Night by James Salter

By Steve Weddle

I'm going to do you all a big favor today--I'm going to get out of the way. You're welcome.

First, though, let me point you over to the new CD from Chris LaTray. His band, American Falcon, has new tunes out, which you can snag right here. I've been listening to the songs for the past week, and I guess you could describe them as a mix between Urge Overkill and The Cult. You'll want to listen for yourself, of course.

Now, please allow me to point you to some additional awesomeness. I was reading an article in TheRumpus called "Beyond The Measure of Men," about the alleged war of women's fiction vs literary fiction I mentioned last week.

Vying with works from Bonnie Jo Campbell and Alan Heathcock and a couple others, one of my favorite collections of literary fiction this past year has been THE NEW YORKER STORIES from Ann Beattie. A remarkable collection. The story called "Coping Stones," in particular, is amazing in its ability to exist as both crime fiction and literary fiction. Well, those New Yorker kids have done it again.

The Women V. Literature article at TheRumpus mentioned a James Salter collection called LAST NIGHT. This one could be my new favorite.

In another story, a group of friends catches up on their lives and at the end, we learn that one of them is dying, doesn’t know how to share that news, and so she tells a stranger, her cab driver, who in the wake of her confession, frankly assesses her appearance.

That sounds like my kind of story--sad, awkward, with a glimpse of beauty. So I read "Last Night," as it was available at The New Yorker online. The story is soul-wrenching and can be found here.

And as if that weren't enough, Thomas McGuane picked that James Salter story to read and talk about in a New Yorker podcast here. So if you'd rather hear Mr. McGuane read it and discuss it with Deborah Treisman, there you go.

By the way, The Paris Review recently celebrated Salter's writing here, including this interview.