"Alley Kat Blues" by Karen Kijewski

BOOK TITLE: Alley Kat Blues

AUTHOR: Karen Kijewski (pronounced “key-EFF-ski”)

YEAR: 1995

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Murder Mystery

GRADE: Pass

Kat Colorado is a California-based private investigator who suspects that an ex-Mormon college student named Courtney Dillard was murdered rather than the victim of a car accident. Kat’s boyfriend Hank is a Las Vegas detective who’s obsessed with finding a serial killer known as the Strip Stalker. Kat and Hank’s relationship hits several pot holes when Kat finds a stripper named Amber Echo in Hank’s bed and also when Hank can’t make time for his girlfriend anymore, constantly working the Strip Stalker case. As Kat digs deeper into both cases, she finds how much in common they have with each other and how they could both potentially destroy not just a relationship, but also Kat’s sanity.

In pretty much every detective book I’ve read in my life, the narrator always feels the need to point out that the mystery isn’t as easily solved in the book as it is on TV. DNA evidence, quick legal procedure, technological superiority, and open-and-shut cases can all be thrown out the window for Alley Kat Blues, because this is another example of that. As cliché as it is to rip on TV crime dramas, I also agree with this method of writing. Mysteries should be well-researched. Laws and procedure should be known by heart. Kat Colorado comes off as someone who could easily pass the bar exam if she wanted to. She also knows when to tell little white lies and how to get information out of her suspects in a deceptive way. If you want to read about a woman who knows what the hell she’s doing, this book is for you.

Another thing I enjoy about this book is Kat’s narration and dialogue throughout. Hard-boiled detectives have always been portrayed as fast-talkers and smart-asses, so why should it be any different with Kat Colorado? When someone in the book says she doesn’t look like a private investigator, she says, “I left my trench coat and fedora at the dry cleaners.” It’s not just one-liners that will grab the reader’s attention, but also the intrapersonal dialogue she has while having conversations and confrontations with various characters. And then there are certain attitudes she takes with the more difficult characters, often coming off as sarcastic, condescending, and clearly in control of the conversation. She doesn’t back down from anybody whether it’s a posturing male, a filthy gun salesman, a religious zealot, or even a guy on the edge of killing her. There are a lot of qualities one could enjoy about Kat’s character profile; pick one!

I’ll tell you something about the book you won’t like, but only in the sense of discomfort and not because you genuinely hate it: the way Karen Kijewski portrays rightwing fanatics. I’m not just talking about run of the mill Republicans who are all about family values and lower taxes. I’m talking about the fringiest of fringes and the cringiest of cringes. I’m talking about cult-like atmospheres where the men are in charge, the women and children are obedient, and anybody who questions the men’s authority will be beaten, raped, or psychologically tortured. Education is stripped away and all that’s left is brainwashing and zeal. The men in charge don’t need all the guns that they have, because they’ve already got enough power over their families to turn them into weapons themselves. It’s scary to think about, so much so that even Kat got rattled a few times in the story. No matter what your political stance, you will be shaken to the core. Why? Because zealots in the real world are just as terrifying. Remember, folks: this ain’t HBO.

Alley Kat Blues is a fun little read that goes by rather quickly despite the three hundred plus pages. Sometimes you might have to think carefully about how the clues connect with each other, but that’s why we read in the first place: to think critically, unlike the Mormon cults portrayed in this story. Once you think you have the answers, Karen Kijewski pulls the rug out from underneath you and you’re all out of whack. A passing grade will go to this wonderfully-crafted mystery that leaves no stone unturned.

Lonesome Town

***LONESOME TOWN***

Trust me, guys, I’d love to be able to stop talking about Western Washington University and how Bellingham is a dead ringer for “Lonesome Town” by Ricky Nelson (a song I first heard on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack). I’ve talked enough about it, so it’s pretty much a dead memory at this point. And then I get an email from WWU’s department of English asking me to take a survey as to how my experience was and how it could have been improved. If these surveys were written on paper, they would probably end up in a big fucking fire pit. But I took the survey anyways and gave them a piece of my mind. I told them about the lack of social programs, the lack of psychological counseling, the bias against introverted students, the shoddy public transportation system, the censorship of R-rated writing assignments, need I go on? No? Okay, I’m actually relieved. I open Face Book one day and I see that many of my classmates had the same vitriol to spew at their former school, so it feels good not to be alone. Perhaps the lyrics to Ricky Nelson’s “Lonesome Town” could sum up my classmates’ feelings as they did for me. Maybe they’ll relate to it in a non-romantic sense and I’d be inclined to agree with them. Want some lyrics? Here they are:

VERSE 1

There's a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away

And they call it lonesome town

Where the broken hearts stay

VERSE 2

You can buy a dream or two

To last you all through the years

And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears

BRIDGE

Going down to lonesome town

Where the broken hearts stay

Going down to lonesome town

To cry my troubles away

VERSE 3

In the town of broken dreams

The streets are paved with regret

Maybe down in lonesome town

I can learn to forget

Got any more surveys for me to take, WWU? You want to ask me again to donate $50 to the English department? Sure, why don’t I give you a blank check while I’m at it. And my social security number. And the pin number and security code on my debit card. Go nuts! I really should stop talking about WWU. It’s ancient history. Eight years counts as ancient history to me. Truth is, I didn’t have any better ideas for a blog topic than those Ricky Nelson lyrics. I was exhausted all day today and got very little done in the way of creativity. Maybe when I snap out of my sleepy haze, I could do one of the following:

***AMERICAN DARKNESS 3***

Two stories down, forty-eight more to go. Clocking in at number forty eight is “Air Pain”. Clever title, huh? It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Andrew Gilbertson, Drunken Businessman
2. Zack Scott, Convicted Felon
3. Tony Battles, Zack’s Handler
4. Susan Martin, Flight Attendant

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: All four characters are taking a six-hour flight to the Paulson City Airport, which means nobody wants to be screwed with. Midway through the flight, Andrew gets drunk and verbally abuses Susan when she denies him more alcohol. Zack, a shackled criminal with Detective Battles watching him, considers bailing on his handler to confront the obnoxious drunk at the risk of losing his plea deal. The longer this flight goes, the more annoying Andrew becomes and the more Tony considers unlocking Zack’s shackles.

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Marie Krepps jokes with me all the time about how I mostly have fat male villains in my short stories and novels. This next Dark Fantasy Warrior will keep the jokes rolling. His name is Big Daddy X and he comes from a short story idea called “Sub-Culture Urban Marketing”. Anti-smoking commercial viewers from the early 2000’s will remember that title and what acronym it forms. “I’m sure they meant it in a good way.”

***ALLEY KAT BLUES***

Now that “No Cure for Cancer” by Denis Leary is in my rearview mirror, it’s time for a fictional book. I purchased “Alley Kat Blues” by Karen Kijewski (“key-EFF-ski”) at a book sale in Chehalis, Washington (another place that could be described by Ricky Nelson’s lyrics). It was a low-stress book sale that was void of pushing and shoving due to the wide selection of books and big open space in the Lewis County Mall. I was happy for the low stress. It looks as though I’ll be even happier with reading Mrs. Kijewski’s book. It’s a crime thriller with a fast pace and a dead body or two. I blame Brett Battles for getting me hooked on this genre. Thanks, Brett!

***WRESTLING DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

FINN BALOR: Good luck tonight, Roman.

ROMAN REIGNS: Good luck to you, man.

FINN BALOR: Luck? I’m Irish. I invented luck.

ROMAN REIGNS: Well, I’m Samoan. Enough said.