This is a story I've told many times before about a mystery writer I knew in his mature years. His name was Al Nussbaum and when he was young he was a bank robber who made the Top 10 on the FBI's Most Wanted list.
When he was hiding out, Al decided the best way to do it was pretend to be a writer because that way he had an excuse for seldom leaving his rented room. He bought a sports coat with elbow patches and a pipe because he thought that made him look like a writer. He also bought a typewrit…
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Posted on May 13th, 2008 at 5:51am —
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This has nothing to do with crime or mysteries but I'm copying this Stodghill Says So blog here anyhow:
In the spring and summer of 1930 we were living in a brick apartment building only a stone’s throw from Navin Field, home of the Detroit Tigers. I didn’t know what it was about, but sometimes on spring afternoons I could hear people cheering inside the big enclosure that to me looked like just another building.
There were other boys in the neighborhood, most of them a ye…
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Posted on February 14th, 2008 at 11:39pm —
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Do you have a web address for that UK woman's Published Authors? Thank you.
I hope I'm still writing that much when I'm 82. You're an inspiration.
Dick, I even lie about lying ... but its part of the writer ... uh ... I think.
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