Tag Archives: Craig Terlson

Fiction, Reviews

‘Bent Highway,’ by Craig Terlson

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The rain moved into hail, peppering the windshield and body of the truck, reminding me of stones thrown against metal fences, of pellet guns fired into graineries [sic].

Time travel is always an intriguing topic in fiction, and since we haven’t figured out how to actually do it yet, we have infinite options as to how to imagine it. H. G. Wells created his time machine. I built tunnels between worlds in a couple of my novels. Craig Terlson, in his novel, Bent Highway, imagines it as something like a road trip with Hunter S. Thompson, as filmed by some French New Wave director.

We first meet our hero, whose name is only given as “M.”, as he’s sitting in a diner, heating up a teaspoon preparatory cauterizing an arm wound with it – a wound he can’t remember receiving. We gradually learn that he’s engaged in a cross-country road trip, but from time to time he loses consciousness – seeming to slip through cracks in the earth – and awakens somewhere else – in someone else’s car, or in a bar, or in a brightly lit room. Sometimes he’s with a mysterious tall man, and sometimes he’s with a beautiful, white-skinned woman. Sometimes people attack him with cars or guns or knives. Gradually we – and he – realize that he’s been at this for some time, but keeps forgetting the incidents, which he doesn’t experience in strict chronological order. He learns that he has a dangerous enemy, and that he needs to be in just the right place at the right time in order to erase and overwrite some event from his past, to save the world.

The classic time travel conundrum of “What will happen if I meet myself in the past?” is handled offhandedly here – M. not only meets his past self, but an infinite number of his past selves, captured at each moment in his life.

Craig Terlson’s characteristic vivid writing style is showcased once again in Bent Highway. “The morning sun drilled a perfect hole in the cerulean sky,” is a good example. Unfortunately, the effect is marred from time to time by numerous typographical errors.

Sadly, the book is a cliff-hanger, and I don’t believe the sequel has appeared yet. I hope it does.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Surf City Acid Drop,’ by Craig Terlson

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“Trust a guy like you to drive this far. What’s wrong with Minnesota?”

“Too many Scandinavians.”

Craig Terlson’s entertaining Luke Fischer mysteries began with Surf City Acid Drop, which I’ve finally gotten around to. I had assumed, on the basis of the title, that we’d find about our hero’s background as a surfer, but in fact it’s just a metaphor. The “acid drop” is a phenomenon where a wave drops out from under a surfer; Luke (who has never surfed) gets the water pulled out from under his feet, so to speak, more than once in this story.

Luke Fischer is a Canadian expatriate slacker living near Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. He insists (often) that he’s not a private detective, but occasionally people ask him to look for things. His new client is a slightly shady woman who tells him she wants him to find her brother, who has disappeared and gone on the road.

Thus Luke sets out on a road trip that will take him through the American West and Midwest. Along the way he’ll encounter an eccentric hit man he calls Mostly Harold, who will become his problematic ally – if Harold doesn’t decide to kill him instead. All in a quest for a much-coveted bag full of rocks (not diamonds).

As always, Craig Terlson’s quirky characters and socko prose are what made the book. I found this one a little more cohesive than the one I read previously, but still I think Luke’s great weakness as a main character is his lack of fire in the belly. He doesn’t seem to care much about anything, and even his fear of death seems muted. Which doesn’t mean he isn’t still fun to spend time with. But it did make some stretches of the book a little slow. The humor, though often dark, helps pass the time.

All in all, I quite enjoyed Surf City Acid Drop, and recommend it. Cautions for language and violence.

Fiction, Reviews

‘Manistique,’ by Craig Terlson

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I shook my head. Lydia studied my face, looking for the lie.

“We’re just looking for answers,” I said.

That part was true—otherwise, I would’ve left this soggy grayscape days ago. Even now, the sun pulled a Houdini and went back to its usual place, shining somewhere over a cornfield in Kansas.

Luke Fischer, hero of Manistique, a Canadian transplant in Mexico, is emphatically not a private eye. But he ends up looking for people anyway. When his friend Franco, who is a private eye, asks him to sit in on a private poker game, he ends up witnessing a shooting. A young woman dies, and there’s talk of missing money. Soon Luke is headed to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (of all places) trying to find the young woman’s father, who is rumored to have stolen a lot of money from some dangerous people.

In Michigan, Luke finds himself teaming up with “Sam,” an attractive female county sheriff. The body count rises steadily as they pursue Luke’s quarry, and when that man is killed, they pursue the killers. The trail will finally lead them all the way to New Mexico.

I very much enjoyed, and positively reviewed, Three-Minute Hero, the book that follows Manistique in the Luke Fischer series (I seem to be reading them in the wrong order). And the virtues of that book were displayed here – colorful hard-boiled prose and strong dialogue.

But the weaknesses were here too – a little more apparently. Chief of these is a certain aimlessness in the plotting. Although there’s plenty of violence in this story – and it’s pretty explosive – one can’t help wondering in the intervals what these people are here for. Luke’s mission is somewhat vague from the start, and even when he’s finished the job he was paid to do, he feels obligated to keep following the money –  though he doesn’t seem interested in it for its own sake. It’s something about justice, for people he barely knows.  One senses an echo of Carlos Castaneda, too,  as he has a mystical conversation on a motel porch with an old man who may or may not exist. Perhaps this is all an existentialist exercise.

I must also confess my slight annoyance at a surrender to current intellectual fashion, evidenced by the inclusion of not one, but two Girl Boss characters – women indistinguishable from men except in their physical appearance, one of whom easily tosses much larger men around a room.

And I have a couple Gun Culture quibbles – a .40 caliber pistol is described as remarkably powerful, and a “silencer” reduces pistol shots to a near-whisper (that’s technology firearms companies would pay good money for, because it doesn’t exist yet).

Author Craig Terlson is now a friend of mine on X, and an entertaining one. I like his writing very much, and all in all I enjoyed Manistique – especially as the story approached its big, climactic showdown. The next book in the series will show considerable improvement, so he’s learning the craft. I recommend this book, in spite of some weaknesses.