Noir. Worldwide Noir.

In the wake of watching the entire 5-season run of The Wire in less than 2 months flat—during the period of withdrawal—I diagnosed for myself the Reading of Noir.

(Guys, there’s a whole series of this stuff!)   

I started with DC Noir, for two reasons. No, three.

1. George Pelecanos edited it, and he’s a producer and writer on The Wire. Also, he’s a big-name mystery author I’d never read and wanted to.

2. Washington, DC, baby!

3. It was available as an eBook, and I’m making a last-ditch effort to redeem myself in the eBook reading challenge. (Can she read 5 more eBooks by year’s end? CAN SHE?)

And man, I had a moment of complete and total bliss when I began reading this book, sitting at a café in front of a fireplace with my Nook and a mocha. And the book was all noir-y and grim, and horrid things happened to the characters, and/or they did horrid things to others, and I was oh-so-happy. And some of these things were happening in DC places I’ve visited, so that made it even better.

Next, I read Boston Noir—edited by my very own favorite Dennis Lehane. And dear Dennis, I’m sorry, but I liked your buddy’s (edited) book better. There was something about the stories in DC Noir that just had that certain je ne sais quoi. And some of them had some killer plot twists.

Next up: Baltimore Noir. I’ve never been there, but that’s where The Wire’s set, so I’ve seen it on TV. And Baltimore’s the world I’m missing during the withdrawal phase from all that TV watching.

Normally I’m not too much of a short story reader, but these really work for me. Though I find that I’m only interested in the books set in places I find interesting. (Last Vegas Noir? Naaaa-uhhhh.)

My other withdrawal remedy: Reading Blue Blood by Edward Conlon