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The Hard-Boiled Detective

Created by Ben Solomon
Pseudonym of Jeremy Aaron Pollack
(1959-2014)

“I don’t mean to be cute. But sometimes my line of work calls for it.”

Pulp? On a subscription basis? Digitally?

Sure.

It may have been a whole new world out there, but Ben Solomon’s THE HARD-BOILED DETECTIVE was a delicious and unapologetic throwback to another, simpler era–of cheap thrills printed on cheaper paper; an era of broad-shouldered he-men and soft-shouldered broads, where fedoras and trenchoats are the order of the day and the roscoes spit ka-chow ka-chow all night long.

At the time, I said, “This ain’t no Chandler, this ain’t no Hammett, but the ghosts of Daly and Bellem and a million other forgotten word slingers are there, ready to kick up a little dust.”

Sure.

Solomon never really gave us his character’s name, or even clued us in on which era (The twenties? The thirties? The forties?) or which city’s mean streets his guy goes down, although the smart money was on Chicago.

But hey, what did names matter when the tough guy patter came spilling out in all its B-list pulp perfection? This was genre as in generic, but rendered with such a giddy sense of glee and so little pretension that you really didn’t mind.

And the scheme the author had to get this stuff out was just as ballsy as his unnamed gumshoe. Starting in January 2013, for a measly 29 simoles, Ben promised three shots of the good stuff every month for a year (in the electronic format of your choice: epub, mobi or PDF), with each yarn running 3,000-9,000 words for a 30 to 90-minute read. “Even longer if you move your lips,” he helpfully added.

Each story was presented as the nameless detective’s statement to the cops, and each, Ben says, was crammed with “dishonest dames, manipulative mugs, cagey crooks, and plenty of victims. There’s always plenty of victims.” Not a bad deal, if you ask me, and Ben certainly delivered. Every month, there were three more little noirish nuggets of crunchy, pulpy goodness, and he never missed a deadline. That must have been one hell of a New Year’s resolution. Plus, I loved swapping emails with him–he was a riot.

Ultimately, Ben Solomon (turns out that was just a pen name of actor, writer and artist Jeremy Aaron Pollack) managed to crank out at least 57 of the suckers, and even squeezed out a  collection that rounded up the first eleven stories, before succumbing to pancreatic cancer at fifty-five.

Does life suck?

Sure.

SHORT STORIES

BOOKS

FURTHER INVESTIGATION

Respectfully submitted by Kevin Burton Smith.

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