And, in kind of the oddest and coolest news I got, if you listen right here, you can hear Bob Dylan introducing the Louvin Brothers song “Satan Is Real” on his radio show. Which is very cool, of course. But even cooler is that Mr. Dylan has requested a copy of the book Satan Is Real. I don’t know what that means, but I love that he has a copy in his hands.

Also, in Pike news, it looks like the French edition from Editions Gallmeister will be available in September. I won’t pretend I’m not blown away by joining an author list that includes Ed Abbey, Craig Johnson, Larry McMurtry, Tim O’Brien, and Tom Robbins.

We’ve also got some details on Noir at the Bar, which I’ll be attending in about three weeks. This from Mr. Bar, Jedidiah Ayres:

Oky-doke kiddos, here’s the official lineup for the N@B double header coming your way late in February. Two nights of walking on the dark side in St. Louis. First up, February 21st, Robert Randisi has been added to the the lineup alongside Benjamin Whitmer, Sonia Coney and Jason Makansi, so that’s fantastic. How many people do you know who’ve read over five hundred books, let alone written that many, let alone published that many? Sure, somebody in the near future will probably take a big ol’ dump all over the internets with their self-published titles and get up into the hundreds like that, but Randisi has done it the hard way, the ultimate pulp writer kids. That cat goes through keyboards faster than I go through underwear, and tossing ‘em when he’s worn the letters off the keys. Take that, James Patterson.

As I understand it, we’ll be meeting at the Meshuggah Cafe in St. Louis. Again, cannot wait.

And I think that brings me up to date on my doings. At least for the most part.

On the non-career related side, I’ve been getting back to doing a little shooting. 3×5 cards up at Left Hand Canyon. And I know I keep saying this, but I can’t get over how solid my 1911 has been since I put in the Ed Brown Hardcore extractor and tensioned it. I haven’t had a problem of any kind, not one, and it’s been well north of 1,000 rounds. (Probably more than 2,000.) I clean it about every 300-400 rounds, keep it oiled, and it just keeps banging along. I’m having so much fun.

And, of course, I’m reading and writing. I finally read Johnny Shaw’s Dove Season and highly recommend it. This is crime fiction the way I dig crime fiction: a strong, individual voice rooted in place and character. I loved it. And I gotta post the cover, because it’s just as great as the writing inside:

I also want to give a huge shout out to Matthew McBride, whose Frank Sinatra in a Blender was picked up by New Pulp Press this week. He gives the lowdown here in a wonderfully titled post, “How To Get A Book Deal In 3,285 Days.”

That’s all I got.

Well, we’re drivin’ this car and the sun is comin’ up over the Rockies
Now I know she ain’t you but she’s here and she’s got that dark rhythm in her soul
But I’m too over the edge and I ain’t in the mood anymore to remember the times
when I was your only man
And she don’t want to remind me. She knows this car would go out of control

There are very few songs that can get me right out a rut and back writing like this one. Or at least out of the house and out of my own head, walking. And, it turns out that there’s probably a reason I like it so much. The song was co-written with Sam Shephard, who I’ve also got a pretty deep fondness for.

It also looks like there might be a movie coming. The screenplay’s already been written by Jay Cocks, who wrote The Age of Innocence and Gangs of New York for Martin Scorcese — two of Scorcese’s works that, again, most dismiss, but I really like — and Brad Pitt’s been offered the role of Henry Porter.

Anyway, here’s the song on YouTube, with the screen left black most of the time, which is nice:

Update: Also, an unflattering, and to my mind, wrong-headed clip from a documentary that gives some of the story of the song:

Update II: Steve Weddle of Do Some Damage, Needle Magazine, and all kinds of other things, has a fantastic post about the song at Jedidiah Ayre’s hardboiled wonderland:

This isn’t a song about an old movie or an old love. This isn’t a song about what it means to grow old, to live your life looking back, wondering when you’re done. This isn’t a song about regret, about being chased, about the “dark rhythm” in a woman’s soul. This is a song about all of that, a song about a dying gunfighter, especially when it takes him a lifetime to die.

The rest.

Yeah, that’s it exactly.

A novice police officer who failed to recognise Bob Dylan said the singer was “acting suspicious” when she found him wandering in the rain in New Jersey last month.

By acting suspicious, I guess she means taking a walk. It’s a different world, Bob, good luck getting used to it.