Books: Jack & Susan in 1933 by Michael McDowell (1987)

“It begins on New Year’s Day, 1933 and the Great Depression has wears on. A lot of people are suffering, including Susan Bright whose family has lost their fortune, leaving her to scrap by in an apartment she barley can afford while singing in speakeasy’s (probation is near it’s end, along with FDR becoming president). Into her life comes Harmon Dodge, the son of a rich (and dead) lawyer of Rhinelander, Rhinelander, and Dodge, along with Marcellus Rhinelander’s daughter, the (hilariously) bitch-to-the-core Barbara Beaumont and her husband Jack (who works for his father-in-law). Harmon is your stereotypical playboy, who spends money like water, and has multitude of affairs with women. But Susan is different and soon enough, Harmon and she are married. As it goes, things get complicated, as the elder Rhinelander understands his daughter ambitions and knows Harmon is a cad. At The Quarry, his country house (his chauffer is a communist named Richard Grace and his wife, the cook, is Grace Grace –they’re a hoot. And so is Louise, the sharpshooter), he professes his love for Susan and demands she divorce Harmon. One thing after another eventually leads Marcellus’ driving his car off a cliff and into the Hudson River. Guess who gets accused of murder?” 

As mentioned before, McDowell’s crowning achievement in his short forty-nine years as a prolific writer (who apparently wrote 19 novels between 1980 and 1987) was his Southern Gothic horror tales. But he also wrote books, mostly crime stories and other thrillers which were released under a few pseudonyms like Axel Young, Nathan Aldyne, Mike McCray and Preston MacAdam, as well as these three romantic murder mysteries featuring Jack and Susan. 

As with the first two, both Susan and Jack are always, impossibly noble, kindhearted New Yorker's. Jack and Susan in 1933 is perhaps my favorite of the three (the one set in 1913 is great as well). It’s a more straight-forward tale (though a movie version would cut a lot of the first half out) that would’ve been something the studio system of the 1930’s could’ve done. It’s more expansive than others, though, starting in New York and ending in the deserts north of Reno. It shines when Barbara Beaumont ("Jack, you remember Susan, don't you?" Barbara managed to suggest that Susan was the sort of person you forget unless you were daily reminded of her existence and shown photographs of her face.) is present, the bitchest woman I’ve seen in a long time. Here, I think, McDowell was able to channel what a lot of gay men have: a deep sarcasm and the love for strong women. Barbara may not be the strongest, but makes it up with cutting lines and great fashion sense. She is a scumbag, like Harmon, so she’s fun to hate. 

As noted, the climax occurs in Pyramid City, (a real life ghost town) Nevada. As these books works, the land is owned by Susan, via a long-dead uncle who bought the land in search of silver (and now run as a fat farm, which is managed by a cousin of Susan who is obviously a lesbian). It’s here, as well, where Jack makes a fateful discovery in the bowels of an abandoned mineshaft.  That’s with the help of the obligatory mutt, of course, although there are two dogs here, Scottish Terriers named Scotty and Zelda.  

It’s clear that McDowell once again did his research and the attention to detail is great. I will probably start searching for his other books, both the horror ones and his other thrillers. But in the meantime, other books call and I need to get to them.

Books: Jack & Susan in 1913 By Michael McDowell (1986)

“It's 1913, and the world is thrilling to that fabulous invention, the motion picture. In their drab New York rooming-house, Jack and Susan are just across the river from glamorous Fort Lee, New Jersey, home of the exciting new film industry. But when the movies move West, Jack and Susan (and Tripod) decide to go along with them, only to discover that not all of the bad guys are on the silver screen.”

 

As noted, for the next book in this series, author Michael McDowell jumps back in time to the year 1913 and the early days of the motion picture industry. This time around Susan is an actress and Jack an inventor (who is and isn’t). After a run-in with the mysterious Russian Consul, on her way home from the theater on a snowy street in January, Susan breaks her leg. A mister John Austin feels guilty because the commotion, and threw a bunch of circumstances that can only happen in these books, she finds herself nearly penniless as no one wants to hire an actress in a plaster cast. Susan finds herself courted by a shadowy fan, soon after, while constantly running into Jack, who lives below her and always finds ways to call attention to him. The tinkerer, named Jack Beaumont, is working on a instrument to help the Cosmic Film Company that holds film in place as it passes through movie cameras. Soon, with intervention of Jack, Susan finds her way into the burgeoning “flicker” business, where she finds steady work as a screenwriter and casts Jack in her films. 

There is a lot interesting bits in this second novel, mostly a fascinating look at the early film industry. In some ways, I can praise McDowell for his intricate eye for historical research and accurate details. There are digs at Motion Picture Patents Company, started by Thomas Edison and others in 1908 and which was notorious for enforcing those who could be seen as competition, by refusing equipment (like cameras and film stock) to uncooperative filmmakers and theatre owners. They were not above terrorizing independent film producers, as well. It was eventually disbanded by court order in 1918 as they were seen holding a monopoly and being anti-competitive. Ironically, The Movie Trust, which was based in New York and other cities of the East Coast, was indirectly responsible for the establishment of Hollywood, Calif., as the nation’s film capital, since many independent filmmakers migrated to the latter town to escape the Trust’s restrictive influence in the East. 

There is also an obvious anti-Semite issue that existed in Hollywood in that time period, as Jack discovers when trying to rent a room (though it’s also covered by additional issues with people who work in the movie industry –like a lot new fangled things, the early silent era was seen more  lowly than the stage- and Hollywood at the time appeared to be a “dry town” –no alcohol) 

Anyways, the book follows the formula as the first, and sits well in the era of the time when films such as this book would’ve been popular –I think they may have been B films. A lot happens to both Susan and Jack, most of it silly by our standards of today, but plausible in era that the book is set. Yes, Susan is portrayed as more independent and smarter than most, but I don’t think that is a stretch to say there were women of that period who could more than what life handed them as females of the human species.

Suffice it to say, it all works out in the end, which takes place in the far-off land of Hollywood, CA, during the making of the most monumental of Susan’s pictures.

Books: Jack & Susan in 1953 By Michael McDowell (1985)

“It is 1953 New York and Jack Beaumont is working as a financial planner to a rich woman named Libby.  She has a thing for Jack and wants to marry him, but he doesn’t share her affection.  Then there’s Susan Bright, who’s going out with the charming but shady Rodolfo.  Susan stands to inherit a sizable amount of money and Jack is secretly in love with her.But when word arrives that someone is trying to poison Susan’s long-lost uncle, she and Jack (and Woolf!) head for Havana, the better to rescue Uncle James, apprehend the bad guys and—hey, why not?—hit a few casinos on the side.” 

A mostly fun book, with a storyline that tends to be silly and a bit predictable in places and more than a bit over the top, but I found it entertaining. The romance angle works much better than the mystery. Apparently, McDowell was contracted to write 10 Jack and Susan books, one for each decade of the last century. But after doing three of them - first for 1953, then 1913 and 1933 - the author bowed out of his contract for whatever reason. 

Stephen King once called Michael McDowell "the finest writer of paperback originals in America today". However, some know him for his best-known work, which was the screenplay for the Tim Burton film Beetlejuice. McDowell then went on to collaborate with Tom Holland on adapting the Richard Bachman (AKA Stephen King) novel Thinner. But those of a certain age – young teens of the 1980s, maybe- he is probably arguably best known for his novels of Southern Gothic horror, like The Amulet (1979) Cold Moon Over Babylon (1980), Gilded Needles (1980), The Elementals (1981), Katie (1982), The Blackwater saga (1983), and Toplin (1985). However, he also collaborated with his close friend Dennis Schuetz in writing four mysteries starring Daniel Valentine and Clarisse Lovelace: Vermillion (1980), Cobalt (1982), Slate (1984), and Canary (1986). Those four novels were published under the pseudonym Nathan Aldyne, though. Also during that same period, they released two psychological thrillers, Blood Rubies (1982) and Wicked Stepmother (1983) under the pseudonym Axel Young. Both books were over-the-top parodies of Sidney Sheldon-type suspense novels. 

Sadly, McDowell was diagnosed with AIDS in 1994. After that, he went to teach screenwriting at Boston University and Tufts University while continuing to write commissioned screenplays. His final projects he was working at the time of his death in 1999 at the age of 49, was a sequel to Beetlejuice and what would be his final, unfinished novel, Candles Burning. That book would be eventually completed by novelist Tabitha King and released in 2006.

Books: Jack Finch Believes in Ghosts by Connor Bryan (2022)

“Skeptic meets psychic. Jack Finch is a ghost hunter on the webshow "The Ghost Checkers", currently threatened with cancellation by their production company if views don't increase. To save their show, the team enlists the help of a popular YouTube psychic named Cecil Cooper. The only problem? Jack hates psychics. When Cecil relays the prophecy that Jack must accept things as they are or lose something dear, Jack must either fight against his very nature, or risk losing everything he loves.” 

For the most part, I think Jack Finch Believes in Ghosts is actually a good idea that somehow forgets its premise as it goes along. So this started out pretty good, but weirdly, I continued through, I realized there is a lack of ghost hunting in a book about ghost hunting. 

There is some self-reflection on my part here, as well. Jack is an asshole most of time, I often wondered why such a skeptic (there is no such things as demons) did a show like this. I could identify with some of Jack’s issues, some of ways he acts towards his co-workers and friends, but I hope I’m not seen so horribly as the way Connor Bryan writes him. Also, the crew that helps them is weirdly underdeveloped and seem shallow and more concerned with views on their Youtube Channel. 

The love story here, between Jack and Cecil is okay – even if a bit unrealistic. It comes across as rather obvious, though I did appreciate that they never really ended up together until the end – after significant time apart. 

What ultimately fails is the ending. Connor Bryan creates a crazy “villain” by the name of Caty – a fan who has zero boundaries. There is no real desire to make her less crazy, or even attempt to explore her craziness. She’s in and out the book because she’s required to be there to move the tale forward. I mean, she shows up at a meet and great, sexually harasses Jack and nothing comes of it. Like how does this happen in today’s world? She has spent years stalking him, sending texts, and by the end, threatening to end his career if he goes public with his relationship with Cecil (because she believes Jack is her boyfriend). To me, with what she’s done would involve a injunction against her. And what happens after her threats gets Ghost Checkers canceled? Nothing. All we get is an epilogue set 12 months later where everyone has moved on, because Caty won. 

That really ruins what was only a so-so romance novel. And I can’t forgive Connor Bryan for ending her book this way. 

Glad I only spent dollar on it.

Books: Dungeon Crawler Carl By Matt Dinniman (2019/2024)

“Carl, having just been cheated on by his girlfriend and left with her cat, Princess Donut, decides to enter the dungeon and finds himself thrust into a deadly competition with uncountable viewers across the galaxy watching their every move. Upon entering the dungeon, all "crawlers" are given a virtual HUD (heads-up display) along with an assignment of stats representing their physical and mental abilities, which can later be increased and various other enhancements. Early in the first novel, Princess Donut becomes able to communicate with humans due to a special consumable item known as a Pet Biscuit that Carl received for bringing the first cat into the dungeon. The biscuit also enhances Princess Donut's base stats, causing the dungeon to view her as the leader of her and Carl's two-person group, which she dubs the "Royal Court of Princess Donut". As the series continues, Carl and Princess Donut encounter several other dungeon crawlers that become both enemies and allies of the Royal Court. 

“The dungeon levels are filled with traps, puzzles and monstrous creatures ("mobs", short for mobile or mobile object), all designed to test the contestants' strength, cunning, and teamwork. As Carl progresses through the dungeon, he gains experience, levels up, and acquires new skills and equipment, typical of litRPG stories. Carl also learns that there is an ongoing power struggle between the corporations that run the various seasons of Dungeon Crawler World, which has caused the Borant Corporation to speed up the competition in order to stave off its competitors from acquiring it.” 

I had been aware of this series for some time (probably when Ace Books acquired the originally self-published titles in the spring of 2024), but as person who was not into Role Playing Games or oftentimes very violent Grimdark video games, or reading novels based on these games, I kept putting them off. Plus, there was a rapid release of the books (two in 2024 and five in 2025) that would’ve meant clearing a lot of my TBR read shelf space to add them. As well, beyond book two, the rest of the series (including book one), averaged 400 plus pages, with book six and seven clocking in at 832 and 880 pages, respectively. I just don’t have the time to get through so many long novels anymore. 

The book is not boring, though, because it has a lot of dark humor and over-the-top violence (which becomes a huge problem as the book progresses). It’s bizarre, outlandish, and absurd, and sometimes silly (the foot fetish part being one of them), but there were at times I found the book repetitive. I’m unsure if it needed at 440 pages to tell its tale. But this is a thing I have taken umbrage with a lot of today’s fiction – books that take too long to arrive at their point, and then they just end abruptly. 

Still, I now know I’m not the target audience of this series and will probably not venture further than book one. Mostly for the cartoon violence, but mainly I found that Dinniman really does not take a serious look into Carl’s physiological effect that all this killing is doing to him. There are hints, buried in the jokes, but me thinks that Carl –if he survives all the levels- will come out more damaged than anything he’s wrought in this game.