Please donate to the Morris family
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Flickr - Latest Photos
PULP FICTION THURSDAY: SNAPPY TITLES, ACT ONE
One thing I love about some of the cheesier pulp books are the lurid and catchy titles of some of the more obscure amongst them. They usually involve sex and and/or both of which still sell BUT those were less explicit times so innuendo was, uh, in as in these two:
Strumpet City sounds like a place Vitty and Senator Ass Crack would groove on. And the other one is just flat out silly as are the next two:
I don't know about you but the mere thought that a Space Viking was coming at me, would alarm the hell out of me. But almost as good as the title is the writer's name, H Beam Piper. Lord, I hope that's a pen name.
That jazz bum looks like a poetry spouting beatnik to me, folks. Sort of like the guy Mr. Wet would have been if he'd been a teenager back in the Fifties. Crazy, Daddy-O, which reminds me of a cheesy Fifties film of that name that popped up on MST 3K:
"Hell-bent for pleasure" is a great description of many New Orleanians and
the turrists.
Why does that look like an evil Ashley and Mark at the bar, 50's style.
"Naked on Roller Skates", eh? As I recall, the first or second novel in
Robert Tannenbaum's series of legal thrillers about (mostly) New York City
features a bit of nude skating. Though to dwell on that would be a
disservice to an ever-evolving story line which is more than reminiscent of
the great nieteenth century mega-novels, and comes almost as close to
Chandler as James Lee Burke...