by Lee Child
I won’t tell you how old I am, but I’ll give you a clue: the first record I bought was “She Loves You” by the Beatles. Back then I lived in England, and 45 rpm singles cost six shillings and eight pence, exactly one-third of a British pound, which was a substantial but feasible sum for a boy in my position. LP records were a different story. There was something called retail price maintenance—essential government support, or evil price-fixing, depending on your political persuasion—that made an LP’s price exactly thirty-two shillings and fivepence ha’penny. Way, way more than I could afford. I could have mowed my whole neighborhood—if it had had any grass—and still come up short. LP records were strictly for birthdays and Christmas, two a year. But I loved them. The smell, the feel, the sleeves, the shiny vinyl, the tiny shimmering grooves. And the music.
Then, late in the sixties, a couple of record companies came out with samplers, both loosely from the world of progressive rock. Full-size LPs, proper sleeves, the smell, the feel, the grooves …twelve tracks, maybe two from bands I had heard of, plus ten others I had never heard of. All at the amazing price of seven shillings and sixpence! Just ten pence more than a single! I was all over them, naturally. And they were wonderful. I was introduced to many, many bands that I love to this day.
That’s what you’ve got in your hands right now.
A sampler.
We’ve included three writers you might already know, and thirteen more you’ll soon come to know. A total of sixteen stories, with introductions to the new writers from veterans with about a thousand years in the business between them. How’s that for value?
The three familiar names are Allison Brennan, Ken Bruen, and Duane Swierczynski. Allison is the new poster girl for success, proving yet again that talent is always enough. Ken is a cult fixture, and has been for years—and will be for years more: to look at him, you might think he’ll keel over any minute, but when you know him, you realize he’ll outlast everybody …well, maybe not Keith Richards, but it’ll be close. Duane is in the early stages of what will be a stellar career. Some people just have what it takes, and Duane has more than his share.
The new guys—in order of appearance—are Brett Battles, Robert Gregory Browne, Bill Cameron, Toni McGee Causey, Sean Chercover, J. T. Ellison, Patry Francis, Marc Lecard, Derek Nikitas, Gregg Olsen, Jason Pinter, Marcus Sakey, and Dave White. I’ve gotten to know most of them quite well. They’re quality people, and quality writers. But they’re more than just thirteen nice guys and thirteen new names. They’re a … what? A cooperative, a group, a band of ruffians, smart enough to join forces in an organization they called Killer Year. The idea was to make some noise and generate some buzz. And it worked. (Why else would all those veteran bestsellers write their introductions? Not because they were getting paid, I assure you.) My friend M.J. Rose has contributed an essay to this book that explains the context better than I can. And my friend Laura Lippman has written a coda to sum the whole thing up.
Which leaves me to say just once more: this is a sampler. I think you’ll enjoy these stories—they’re all excellent, and some of them are just plain great. If you agree, bear this in mind: short stories are far, far harder to write than novels. So if you like these guys’ stories, check out their novels—I promise you, they’ll be to die for.