The Making of a
Southern Mystery Press

By Dan Bookman

NEW ORLEANS — They gathered at Casamentos' in the 4700 block for their Friday oyster loaf lunch. From here it would be on to the Napoleon House where they would finish off their day.

There were two writers, a father and son, the former a novelist and the latter a newspaper columnist; a literary agent and a criminal attorney with a couple of "vanity" titles to his credit. There was also a political computer guru and a woman marketing wizard.

The writers and the agent were bemoaning their years of harsh treatment by the Madison Avenue types. A novel here... a novel there, but always getting the "Yankee cold-shoulder".The old novelist and literary agent were gimping out a living through various freelance projects and royalties from old novels. They drank and ate up most of what they earned, living in clothes bought from Perlis' and J. Press during their "Salad days".

"I hate crawling with my hat in my hand to those Yankee bastards with everything we write, only to get a quick look and every third book published", snapped the old man.

The agent answered, "To quote that sage Hyman Roth in Havana, 'Because this is the profession we've chosen'. It's been that way forever. They spend their summers in the Hamptons and we sweat out ours on what's left of the Gulf Coast."

Later, in the dark reaches of the Napoleon House, the attorney knocked back the last of his third Pimm's Cup and said,"Today, with the computer and Internet world, the small press concept is doing a hell of a business. There's everything we need right at this table to write, edit, produce and publish whatever we want."

"Maybe no more than two novels a year," the savvy woman added.

The novelist seemed energized. "I see mysteries... Southern mysteries, either about the South or by Southern writers. That's who we are. The good Southern writers are dying like flies. Willie Morris, Shelby Foote, Bill Styron and Eudora Welty... I could go on forever. I want to encourage young writers from the South by giving them a place to publish where they 're really wanted."

By the time they left the bar all except the old novelist had pledged $7,500 toward the literary project now called Murder Creek Press. They'd named it after the sleepy stream which drifted past the back deck of the attorney 's camp in Mississippi, an hour from the Big Easy where they drank, dreamed and just plain loved the good life.

Their first effort is called OR ELSE...!, a racing novel that Dick Francis' millions of fans will love. It's written by the old novelist who promised the first royalties from the book for his share.

Or else... he'd be banned from the porch and Casamentos forever!