The Serialist by David Gordon

There are parts of this murder mystery that annoy me as much as the letters and newspaper clippings in Lacuna; namely, the lead character in the book is a hack author who makes his living writing pornography, sci fi, blaxploitation, and vampire novels And he includes chapters excerpting whole chapters from them, at first padding the length of this his first published work, but eventually contributing to the bizarre, dangerous, confusing world in which Harry Bloch and Darian Clay live.

Harry is the author who is contacted by Darian, a serial killer in Sing Sing, to write his true crime story before he is executed in three months. Darian discovered Harry’s talents reading Raunchy magazine in jail and makes a devil’s bargain with him – he will give Harry installments of his life if Harry in turn visits the women who have written him love letters in jail and write up a short erotic version of these meetings. Sick, but Harry is only otherwise writing term papers for rich prep school children at fifty bucks an hour.

So there is a lot of black humor in the story until the first grizzly murder of one of these lovelorn fans shortly after Harry’s interview. Eventually, all are mutilated and the story shifts into a who could have done it with Darian imprisoned.

Supporting characters are vivid and it is a very quick, page turning read. Like many first time authors, Gordon intrudes into Harry’s musings to opine on why people read and why writers write. He also speaks to the reader at certain fulcrums in the narrative, explaining how he writes the first and last sentence and when the plot pivots in the murder mystery genre. It coincidentally has a riff about violence as art, echoing the book club’s latest selections to read about the creative urge.

A great read. Will be watching for more from Gordon, as long as he does not revert to sci fi vampire robots.