Mainly around the eyes...

We're into October, double digit deep...

So far there's been that familiar smell of dust burning off in the radiator from the first cold enough night.

There's been that evening when you stayed out later than expected and wished you'd brought your hoodie.

There's been mist in the ball field as the cold night air hits the infield dirt, warm from the traffic of two dozen feet.

Here's what I've been doing/thinking about:

I've been reading Mad Notions by John Lawrence Reynolds. Although the bulk of the story is set in Tennessee he is actual from Ontario. I hadn't read any "True Crime" books in quite a while... more or less burning through the genre a few years back researching Jack the Ripper for a couple of writing projects. I got my fill of Jack and moved on to more contemporary Serial Killer books... this is a little ahead of CSI and Se7en and the explosion of forensics/killer narratives we are still immersed in. This particular book is not about serial murder... rather it centers upon a single killling in a fairly small town/white trash setting. Reynolds takes what is a tawdry but fairly by-the-numbers homicide and works its simple details into a more interconnected story of a place that is superficially idyllic (iconic imagery of Dolly Parton included) but shot through by drug-related corruption that infects the infrastructure for more than a decade leading up to the murder. This backstory is much more interesting than the case itself... and ultimately the book is just a pretty good time-passer for slow stretches at the store.

Incidentally, one of the "Serial Killer" books I read back during that stretch that I'd really recommend... even if you aren't entirely interested in true crime is The Killer Department by Robert Cullen. It deals with the case of a Russian murderer, Andrei Chikatilo (left), who killed an estimated 52 people between 1978 and 1990, mostly children. While the psychology of the man responsible is fairly predictable if you've seen more than a couple of profiler crime dramas... the book deals more with the state of crime investigation before, during and after the period of Glasnost that transformed and opened up the then Soviet Union. Saddled with a strong party line stating serial murder was a "decadent western phenomena" impossible at home head investigator Viktor Burakov was stuck having to pursue dead end avenues searching out mental patients and homosexuals (because of a sexual component, but despite the fact both sexes were killed inclusively). The book was adapted into an equally well-told film called Citizen X, and in fact subsequent printings of the book took on this title.

Coincidentally... or perhaps not so much so... I've been watch season one of Dexter... a Showtime drama about a Miami forensics examiner (blood spatter analysis) who moonlights as a serial killer. I've had it recommended to me a few times and, despite reservations that the premise might be easily riddled with holes and/or clichés, I went ahead and grabbed it. While it isn't a slam-dunk, it is exceedingly well-acted, well-shot, and well-written... only occasionally faltering with police procedural and horror movie stock moments. The title character is constructed and portrayed in a complex, tightrope-walking, and ultimately convincing fashion that satisfies squeamish believability.


And for the ears...

A recent goodie box from Forced Exposure contained Samamidon's All is Well on Bedroom Community records. I had seen his first record mentioned online, how can you not notice something called But This Chicken Proved Falsehearted? But I'd not heard the music. All is Well features 10 traditional folk songs adapted by young Sam Amidon who is evidently gilded with tarnished vintage brass. He touches the sturdy acoustic tales with just enough whispery electronics to dislodge them from their dustbowls. Sam's style has echoes of Iron and Wine and Damien Jurado (two favourites) and is ridiculously easy to fall for. It comes out on October 23rd.

So there. Now you know.