The books I added to my shelves in 2017

I bought fewer than a dozen books and ebooks in 2017, and intentionally so. It was in keeping with my resolution to read as many books as I could from my collection of 100-odd paperbacks before buying new ones. The plan did not quite work.

Even so, there were a few acquisitions during the year that I was especially glad to have made.

Author Margot Kinberg, who blogs about crime fiction at Confessions of a Mystery Writer, very kindly sent me a signed copy of Past Tense, the third novel in her mystery series featuring ex-cop Joel Williams. Now a professor in the Department of Criminal Justice at the fictional Tilton University, Williams is an affable and unassuming sleuth with a knack for sniffing out clues. Past Tense is an engaging campus mystery. You can click here to read the review.

Ben Boulden's debut novel Red Rock Rampage, #15 in the Blaze! Adult Western Series, introduces J.D. and Kate, a husband-and-wife team of gunfighters, in an action-packed tale told at a brisk pace. I reviewed the book and interviewed Ben here. I will also be reviewing his 25-page Western short story Merrick (since reviewed). You can learn more about Ben and his work at his blog Gravetapping.

During the year, I was lucky enough to track down three out-of-print Sudden paperbacks, my favourite Western series created by British author Oliver Strange. One of them was Sudden Strikes Back by Frederick H. Christian who wrote five Sudden novels after Strange's original ten. That brought my collection to Sudden novels, which I have been reading and rereading since the 1980s.

Finally, a friend and colleague gifted me a lovely hardback edition of Where the Sidewalk Ends, Shel Silverstein's delightful collection of children's poems and illustrations. Silverstein once said he never studied the poetry of others and instead developed his own "quirky style, laid back and conversational." It shows. Where the Sidewalk Ends is one of those rare books that makes you want to put pen to paper and try writing a few verses yourself.

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Nothing much happened in 2017

2017 was probably my worst year of reading and writing in recent memory. I read very few books and short stories, and reviewed even fewer on this blog. Personal and professional commitments took up most of my time, while the daily commute became increasingly stressful, leaving me with little energy to read or write. 

As the year wore on, my visits to other blogs declined. That was the one thing I missed the most. But a new year, as Calvin tells Hobbes, is a "new beginning" full of "new possibilities," and I look forward to reconnecting with fellow readers and bloggers. In fact, that's the first thing I'm going to do in 2018.

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I watched quite a few films and television series during the year, many of them Netflix originals. I particularly enjoyed Godless, a fine western, and Alias Grace, a psychological drama based on Margaret Atwood's novel, which I still haven't read. Beasts of No Nation, about a child soldier in a war-torn African country, was disturbing, though I felt Idris Elba's character could have been better developed.

For some reason, I also binge-watched Jason Statham's crime films on Netflix. They reminded me of the hard-boiled thrillers I enjoy reading. A couple of them, especially The Italian Job and The Bank Job, felt as though they had come straight out of a James Hadley Chase or Lionel White novel.

Another documentary I enjoyed was Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things. There was nothing particularly new about its central idea—mystics have preached "less is more" for centuries—but it served as a useful reminder. To be honest, I've been hoarding books when I should have been reading them and giving away those that no longer deserve a place on my shelves.

On the writing front, well, I'm still writing—or struggling to, thanks to time constraints and the occasional bout of what we call writer's block, which is probably just an excuse not to write and watch a film instead. I have unfinished short stories, a novel I've only recently begun, and a work of nonfiction that I hope will make people feel good about themselves. I intend to persist with all three in 2018, write every day and work to deadlines.  

One bright spot during the year was the publication of my first short story, A Little Murder at Dinner, on Juggernaut Books. It's an atmospheric tale about a police officer and his wife, set against the backdrop of a double murder.

So that's how the year was. Not much happened. But I hope to make things happen in 2018, particularly where my writing is concerned.

Book Review: Dead Line by Stella Rimington

The story of English author Stella Rimington is almost as interesting as the plot of Dead Line, the fourth novel in her espionage series featuring MI5 agent Liz Carlyle. Dame Rimington, who joined Britain's domestic counter-intelligence and security agency in 1969, was appointed Director-General in 1992, becoming not only the first woman to hold the post but also the first head of MI5 to go public.

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With nearly three decades of intelligence experience behind her, the series is written with first-hand knowledge. Dead Line, the only novel in the series I have read so far, is a convincing and realistic entry in the world of spy fiction.

The British government is weeks away from hosting a Middle East peace conference at Gleneagles in Scotland. While Syria and Israel are at the heart of the talks, heads of government from Britain, the United States, Jordan, Lebanon and Iran are expected to lend their weight to the proceedings. The conference may not produce an immediate breakthrough, but it is vital that it concludes without incident. The prestige of 10 Downing Street depends on it.

There are, however, rogue agents and even nations that will stop at nothing to wreck the conference. Acting on a tip-off from MI6, the Secret Intelligence Service, MI5 chief Charles Wetherby entrusts the sensitive case to Liz Carlyle. Her task is to track down two terror suspects, including a Syrian journalist, believed to be planning an attack on the summit.

But there is one problem: Liz has almost nothing to work with. Starting from scratch, she uncovers a conspiracy far more dangerous than she, Wetherby or anyone else in British intelligence had imagined. Her investigation puts her on a collision course with allies in the CIA and Mossad, while the trail leads to a shadowy Syrian operative with a chilling past and a thirst for revenge.

Dead Line may not have the spectacle of a Tom Clancy thriller, the legacy of John le Carré or the technical detail of a Craig Thomas novel. What it does offer is a believable portrayal of how intelligence agencies might actually operate behind closed doors in the fight against terrorism and subversion. Rimington writes with clarity and her methodical plotting reflects one who has seen that world. Liz Carlyle is a credible intelligence officer, balancing the demands of her profession with career ambitions, family concerns and private emotions.

I plan to read more in the series by Britain's most famous spy.

Photo Essay: A tour of Mumbai's book haunts

Secondhand books have the tantalising aroma of a spicy Goan fish curry.

Browsing through books is half the pleasure. Buying them doesn't always have to be the happy ending. I have spent much of my reading life doing little more than scanning bookshelves, admiring covers, flipping through pages, reading blurbs, searching for forgotten bookmarks, and envying what other people find. Which means I get as much satisfaction from browsing as I do from buying. Of course, there have also been times when I've walked away empty-handed, only to regret leaving behind a coveted title or an out-of-print book. I've even returned the next day, only to find it gone. 

Old or new, in shops or on footpaths, books have been my companions ever since I started my reading journey with the Hardy Boys. Here are some of my favourite book haunts, mostly in South Mumbai, where I have browsed far more than I have bought. A few of these photographs have appeared on the blog before, but most were taken specifically for this post.

The footpath booksellers of Flora Fountain (Hutatma Chowk)

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Books by Weight in South Mumbai, as far as the eye can see.

Abraham Lincoln in not-so-strange company.

My pick from the box: Jack Higgins, my favourite author.

A pavement bookseller opens for the day.

The suburban bookshop where I browse—and board a bus home.

The English historical novelist on my TBR list.

Fiction rubs spines with self-help in South Mumbai.

Waiting for customers: This footpath bookseller knows his books.

British crime writer Martina Cole at Books by Weight.

A close-up of a footpath bookseller on Mahatma Gandhi Road.

Heavyweights jostle for space at a suburban bookshop.

Take your pick or toss a coin, at Books by Weight.

Spy novelist Craig Thomas is an old friend.

Books in a haystack near the old Central Telegraph Office.

This photo essay was first published in October 2017 and has been lightly updated in June 2026 with revised text and links to related posts. Some of these book haunts may have changed over the years, while others continue to welcome browsers and collectors. But the joy of browsing secondhand books remains the same.

© All photographs by Prashant C. Trikannad

Book Review: Sniff the Detective by Richard Scarry

Sniff is a detective.
He helps people find things.
He helps catch bad people.
He thinks with his head.
And he smells with his nose.

Every now and then I like stepping outside my reading comfort zone. That's how I ended up reading Sniff the Detective (Golden Books, 1988), a delightful children's mystery by the late American author and illustrator Richard Scarry. It was my first children's detective story in middle age, and I enjoyed it far more than I expected.

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The illustrated book contains two stories—Sniff Catches the Robber and Sniff's Best Case Ever—set in a world of anthropomorphic animals who talk, work and solve crimes just like humans. They're impossible not to like.

In the first story, Chief Hound asks Sniff to investigate the mysterious disappearance of Mrs. Jewel's precious bracelets. Since the elderly pig has neither left her home nor received any visitors, Sniff spends the night there, hoping to catch the thief in the act.

The second story begins on a rainy day with Sniff happily staying in bed until duty calls from another city. It's almost his birthday and he'd rather be home eating cake and ice cream, but detectives don't always get holidays. His train journey introduces a few suspicious-looking passengers carrying violins and wearing dark glasses, making for an entertaining mystery.

The stories are simple, funny and gently suspenseful, while Richard Scarry's colourful illustrations and large typeface make the book ideal for reading aloud to young children. I especially liked Sniff's approach to detective work. He relies on observation, common sense and, naturally, an excellent nose.

Children's mystery, YA mystery or adult crime fiction—a good detective story is still a good detective story. You're never too young or too old to enjoy one.

Note: Writer-blogger Patti Abbott is hosting Friday's Forgotten Books over at her eclectic blog Pattinase, where you will read some fine reviews of forgotten or overlooked books.

Boot Hill: An Anthology of the West by Robert J. Randisi

"They died with their boots on."

© Forge Books

Boot Hill: An Anthology of the West (2002), edited by American author and anthologist Robert J. Randisi, is a remarkable and delectable collection of original short stories by some of the finest Western authors. Of the 15 stories only The Naked Gun by John Jakes (1967) is a reprint.

I borrowed the 351-page digital book from Archive.org and I have a fortnight to read all the stories before it probably vanishes automatically. I'm sure there's a waiting list. The stories revolve around Boot Hill in Dodge City, Kansas, the final resting place of some of the wildest and bizarre characters that rode the American West—“from the coffin-maker with a death wish to the drunken cowboy haunted by one night of greed and violence, to the vigilante piano man and the tough-talking soiled dove.”

So far I have read only Randisi’s pithy introductions of all the writers and his own enjoyable and rather humourous short story, The Gravediggers, where the eponymous Gravedigger welcomes the reader to Boot Hill and, in characteristic Old West lingo, talks about the history of the place, the “dead folks” and their stories (“if’n they could tell ’em that is”), the backbreaking work of digging graves, the bare wooden headstones (“with some writin’ on it”)...

The Gravediggers sets the tone for the remaining stories that I look forward to reading over the next few days. Meanwhile, here is the cast of authors in order of appearance.

01. The Gravediggers by Robert J. Randisi
02. The Naked Gun by John Jakes
03. The Ghost of Abel Hawthorne by Elmer Kelton
04. Sinners by Wendi Lee
05. The Guns of Dusty Logan by James Reasoner
06. Hard Ground by L.J. Washburn
07. The Comfortable Coffin of Miz Utopia Jones Clay by Tom Piccirilli
08. Anonymous by Randy Lee Eickhoff
09. The Last Ride of the Colton Gang by John Helfers and Kerrie Hughes
10. The Sellers by Troy D. Smith
11. The Piano Man by Robert Vaughan
12. Dead Weight by Richard S. Wheeler
13. A Disgrace to the Badge by Ed Gorman
14. Planting Lizzie Palmer by Marthayn Pelegrimas
15. A Damned Nuisance by Marcus Galloway

A Western anthology can’t get better than this.


Note: Writer-blogger Patti Abbott is hosting Friday's Forgotten Books over at her eclectic blog Pattinase, where you can read some fine reviews of forgotten or overlooked books.

Booty for a Badman by Louis L'Amour, 1960

My belly was as empty as my prospect hole, and it didn't seem like I had much choice.

When young William Tell Sackett, the oldest of the three Sackett brothers, has no luck panning for gold, he agrees to carry 50 pounds of the yellow metal out of the camp and deliver it safely to a bank in Hardyville—all for a princely fee of $100. The gold belongs to four miners who trust him. There's just one problem: he must carry it through desert-mountain country over five days. And Tell knows he won't be alone on the trecherous journey. The Cooper gang, who make a living out of robbing and killing successful prospectors, will be hot on his trail. 

Unmindful of dangers on the trail, the quiet, honest, and tough cowboy packs a horse and rides out with the gold, each pound worth $1,000. He is not worried about the Coopers. While he can take on the desperadoes, he's not so sure what to do when he encounters Christine Mallory, a pretty woman on the run from her soldier-husband and stranded in the middle of nowhere. Disregarding his father Colburn Sackett's advice to stay clear of women because "They'll trouble you. Love 'em and leave 'em, that's the way," the chivalrous Tell agrees to escort her to Hardyville on the Colorado, even if it means slowing down and risking his life.

Right then I'd much rather have tangled with the Coopers than faced up to that woman down there, but that no-account roan was taking me right to her. Worst of it was, she was almighty pretty.

And then, all of a sudden, the Cooper gang turns up. Here it comes.

Booty for a Badman is a fine Western story told in an engaging, concise, and easy style, a Louis L'Amour trademark. The author draws a vivid picture of the wild country, the hostile terrain, the dust raised by his pursuers in the distance, the night campfire and smoke without going into a lot of detail. Tell is a god-fearing and an honourable man, as evident from his gentlemanly behaviour towards Christine who he addresses as "Mrs. Mallory," but he can't help dreaming of settling down with a woman like her and raising a family. In the end L'Amour throws up a couple of twists that I didn't see. I'm glad for it's the element of surprise that holds my interest in a story, especially a Western that often finishes along predictable lines. 

The short story, first published in The Saturday Evening Post, July 1960, and subsequently reprinted in the same magazine, 1975 and 1988, is part of The Collected Short Stories of Louis L'Amour: The Frontier Stories, Volume One. I believe there are at least four other volumes in this series, and including other stories add up to more than 250. I read L'Amour—one of the most popular and prolific writers of the last century—after many years, and I'm prompted to read (and reread) his Sackett series among other novels.


Note: For more Friday's Forgotten Book reviews, visit Todd Mason's blog Sweet Freedom. Todd is doing the FBB honours this Friday in place of Patti Abbott at her blog Pattinase.