The radio show of Booklist’s own Donna Seaman, Open Books, is now airing on Chicago’s NPR affiliate, WBEZ, on select Sunday nights. Be sure to tune in this Sunday, February 17, at 9 p.m. (Central) as she talks with author Nancy Goldstein about her book Jackie Ormes: The First African American Woman Cartoonist–just reviewed in our February 1 Black History Spotlight–and also cartoonist Tim Jackson (visit his site for the “Pioneering Cartoonists of Color” list).

(If you’re in Chicagoland, dial in 91.5. If you’re not, you can get streaming audio on the WBEZ site.)

Since 2001, when his Joe Pickett mystery series debuted with Open Season, C. J. Box has earned accolades and fans in ever-growing numbers. Not only was Booklist one of the earliest publications to take note of his exciting talent (Bill Ott wrote a double-length, rave review), Box went on to have a track record here that few writers can equal: five of seven Joe Pickett novels have been deemed worthy of a starred review.

It takes guts to tinker with a successful formula, but the Wyoming native (recently photographed sans cowboy hat) has done just that. In January, St. Martin’s Minotaur will publish Blue Heaven, his first stand-alone thriller. It’s different from the Joe Pickett books in a number of ways, most notably in the larger cast and the breakneck pacing. Set in north Idaho, dubbed "Blue Heaven" by the California cops who are retiring there, it starts with two kids watching a man get executed–and then things really get hairy. Does Box pull it off? Make that six starred reviews in total.

I talked with the author in 2005 about his remarkable Out of Range, but given the new direction he’s taking, it seemed like high time to check in with him again. Over e-mail, Box explained why he wrote Blue Heaven, affirmed that "Blue Heaven" actually exists, and proved he has a gift for sports prognostication, too.

First things first: is Joe Pickett on hiatus?

Joe will be back next May in the eighth Joe Pickett novel, called Blood Trail. My intention is to keep the series going with Putnam while writing stand-alone thrillers for St. Martin’s Minotaur. It’s not as crazy at it sounds. Blue Heaven has been in the works for over two years.

Why did you decide to write a stand-alone thriller?

There are themes, formats, and characters that just won’t work in a series format and I wanted to stretch myself. Plus, I hoped readers who may think of the Joe Pickett books as "huntin’ and fishin’" books–which they aren’t–might give Blue Heaven a try and be surprised.

Blue Heaven has some familiar elements we’ve come to expect from you, but with a different feel. How different were you trying to make it?

As different as it needed to be. There is a large cast of characters in Blue Heaven, and the novel is told from the point of view of many of them in real time over 60 hours. Because of the ticking clock, the characters needed to be introduced as quickly and clearly as possible before moving to the action. There was no time for a lot of back-story but enough, I hope, that the reader can tell everyone apart and empathize with several of them. There’s somewhat of a comfort zone with the Joe Pickett books because we know the protagonist and his family and we know–to some degree–what they’re capable of. With Blue Heaven, the onion is peeled just a little each time a character is reintroduced to the story.

I feel like I saw some familiar character traits, too–but with a larger cast, it was almost as if they were spread out over more characters. Not to keep asking about Joe Pickett, but it almost seemed as if you need more than one character to replace him.

That’s a really good point and shows your familiarity with Joe Pickett! I never really thought of that before. There are also a couple of very "gray" characters in Blue Heaven that I find as interesting as anyone; the local businessman with a guilty secret and the wavering ex-cop who just might turn out to be okay after all.

Is it true that California cops are retiring to north Idaho in great numbers?

Yes. In fact, the first time I heard the phrase "blue heaven" was from an ex-LAPD officer at a book signing who asked me if I came from "that blue heaven country." He had dozens of colleagues who who had sold their California homes for a lot of money and bought acreage and huge homes in north Idaho. It turns out there are hundreds of them up there. Luckily, I’ve run across no bad ones like the ones in the book.

What kind of research did you do? Does a stand-alone require more research than a series book?

I went to Santa Anita Racetrack one day and found it completely empty but every gate or door I tried was open. It was very strange. I walked through the grounds, on the track, inside the restaurants and saw absolutely no one. I also spent some time in north Idaho interviewing locals. They confirmed not only the presence of all of the ex-cops but how their community had been transformed pretty quickly from a kind of sleepy timber and mining economy to one that catered to wealthy new residents. The cultural cross-currents were there for anyone to see. And I drove around a lot on my own, just looking and taking notes.

There wasn’t necessarily more research required than an series book, but there was more background required of the characters. I was creating a whole new world.

How is the culture of Idaho different from Wyoming–or is it different?

I found the culture in Idaho very different, even from other parts of Idaho. In that state, the division is from north to south, not east to west, like Wyoming or Montana. The north Idaho I got to know doesn’t have a single iconic image and is kind of a mish-mash of influences–a little ranching, timber, mining, recreation, but also Pacific Northwest and the new California thing.

You have more stand-alones coming out with St. Martin’s. Can you tell us what they’ll be about and when they’re coming?

All I’ll say about the second stand-alone is that it takes place in Denver, Lincoln (Montana)–and Berlin.

Your work seems to be getting even more attention since we last talked (you’re a New York Times bestselling author, for one). Has it changed your life or the way you write? Does your office still have a bad view of a window well?

I now have a painted window well, thank you very much! Thanks to my artist daughter Molly, I look out on a painting of a fly-fisherman on the Lamar River in Yellowstone. Last year it filled with snow for several weeks. That was kind of boring.

Will the Cubs finally go all the way this year?

No, I’m sorry. The Rockies will beat San Diego in the one-game playoff tonight and take the rest of the National League by surprise (although, as I write this, the Padres just hit a grand-slam and went up 4-3).

[Editor’s note: If Box ever tires of writing thrillers, he might try his hand as a sportswriter. The Rockies went on to win a wild, 13-inning game and make the postseason. At this writing, they’re leading the Phillies in the NLDS 2-0. As for the Cubs, well, they’re behind the Diamondbacks 0-2.]

(Photo credit: Roger Carey.)

The short stories in Jonathan Messinger’s Hiding Out offer what Booklist reviewer Mark Eleveld calls “a sliding scale of solipsism”: characters retreat, hide, obsess, find themselves in the wrong situation, and struggle to connect. In my favorite story, “Hiding Out,” a lonely guy sends e-mails to himself, reluctantly attends his bloviating boss’ birthday bash, and is suspected of–then recruited for–corporate espionage (sort of). But here’s how Eleveld sums up the book:

Messinger’s stories are aching, not bleak, and the collection, wittily and expressively illustrated with Rob Funderburk’s line drawings, is fun, engaging, and a bit more than thought-provoking. A fresh, spot-on debut.

Blogrolling alert: Messenger interviewed me for Time Out Chicago, where he is the Books & Poetry Editor. But just as he was interested in the story behind my use of a pseudonym, I was interested in seeing what he had to say about being an author who is also an editor and a publisher (he is Co-publisher & Editor-in-Chief of Featherproof). Our interview took place via e-mail.

So what did you want to be first: writer, editor, or publisher?

I’ve always wanted to be a writer, since I was a kid. In college, I was a journalism geek, so I did a bit of everything: wrote for the weekly paper in town, edited and published an “alternative” campus magazine (you know the kind: lots of attacks on the administration, gonzo journalism about the french fries in the student center). So now they’re all pretty inextricable for me and each one satisfies some part of my control-freak nature.

What challenges do you face as a writer who is also a book review editor and a publisher? Or, conversely, what opportunities does this present - do your multiple roles work in your favor or against you?

I’m still figuring this all out, to be honest. The writer and book review editor dynamic doesn’t really affect me too much, though I do believe that constantly and consistently reading critically has helped my writing.

As a writer and a publisher whose press has published his own book, there are obvious stigmas that I have to overcome, but I’m not too worried about that. I’m of the opinion that if you’re truly interested in working independently, as Featherproof is, then you have to view what you do as independent of the assumptions of the (for lack of a better term) mainstream. So if the assumption is that my book is only being published because I’m a partner in Featherproof, then I can’t really be upset if people think that means my book isn’t strong, because that assumption isn’t really part of the equation for me.

In the end, I think the quality of the book is the only thing that’s going to help or hurt me. I’m not a member of the critic’s circle or anything, so my connections with other critics are slim to non-existent.

Have your other roles tempered your expectations as an author?

Tempered is putting it kindly. I get piles of books delivered to my desk every day, and I’m sure it’s far less than what national pubs get. So I know what I’m up against.

As a reviewer, how do you think you’ll respond if you get a bad review?

Let’s hope that’s never a problem. No, I did get one mixed review already, it said some nice and some not-so-nice things, and it was an eye-opening experience. I read it as an editor of reviews, a writer of reviews, and now a subject, and three out of three of my split personalities agreed: they didn’t like it.

I just felt like it didn’t review the book on its own terms, but rather in a sort of category the reviewer had put it in ahead of time, something I try to avoid. But if I’m being honest, my embittered author side might have been shouting a little bit louder than the rest.

Does reading and interviewing great writers inspire or intimidate you?

Mostly inspire. I’ve learned a lot from the interviews I’ve done (talking with Lydia Davis, who intimidated the heck out of me, was like getting a free writing class). But I’ve found the authors who are lesser known to be better interviews, because they’re not as prepared, and tend to give more thoughtful responses. I interviewed a famous author once, and I called him in the early afternoon, and the first thing he said to me was, “It’s beautiful outside, but I’m stuck in a hotel room all day doing interviews.” That wasn’t one of my best.

When you’re interviewing authors, do you find yourself talking to them as an author yourself?

No, I don’t think so. At least, I never say, “I write fiction, too, you know.” Because that seems like it’s breaking down a wall, and maybe like a weird sort of bragging. I’ve had authors ask me if I write fiction, maybe because of some of the questions I ask, but I generally downplay it. That may be where the intimidation comes in. I’d feel ridiculous saying, “Why yes, Mr. Chabon, I too am a man of letters.”

Which authors do you read for your own pleasure?

Well, I rarely get to read strictly for pleasure anymore, but when I do, I am a huge Lydia Davis fan, as I already said. George Saunders, for sure, and Brian Evenson. I love Paul Auster, as well. On a recent vacation, I took David Anthony Durham’s fantasy novel, Acacia, which I loved. That felt particularly decadent.

The title of your book suggests a theme to your stories, and reading the stories reinforces that notion. Did you set out to write stories on a theme or did the theme become apparent only later?

I definitely didn’t have a theme in mind when I started out. I had about 30 or so stories that I looked at for the collection, and began weeding them out one-by-one over the course of about four or five months. Each story was eliminated for its own reason - wrong tone, strange fit, or just overall weakness. The theme really emerged when I started putting the stories in the order I wanted, and actually read the thing as a whole. It actually surprised me.

If you could choose only one story for people to read, which one would it be?

Probably the second story, “Bicycle Kick.” The title story is my favorite, but I think “Bicycle Kick” hits on all of the things I was working on in the book - themes of isolation, death, finding humor in sadness, etc. And there’s a long, ludicrous description of adult-league soccer.

Tell us about your acclaimed Dollar Store reading series.

Well, we’ve been going at it now for three years, once a month at the Hideout (the best bar in Chicago). I give a piece of junk - what I like to call evocative crap - to a fiction writer or comedian or playwright, etc. They then take that junk and make something wonderful out of it. My pal Abraham, who plays in the great Chicago band Baby Teeth, improvises 30-second recaps of everyone’s story on the piano. It’s all a lot of fun. We’ve sold out for two years running. We’re going to take a short hiatus so Abe and I can work on some projects, but in the meantime I’m taking it on tour in the fall and winter.

Which book has had the least influence on you?

I’d say Guardians of the Galaxy, issues #1-#25. I read this comic when I was a kid, getting into it at issue #1 and really, really wanting to like it. It seemed like a big deal to get in on the ground floor of a new title. It involved a futuristic Captain America character who led a group of alternately purple- and green-skinned heroes against evil aliens, and the like. Given those ingredients, it should have been the most influential book of my life. But beyond what I just said, I can’t remember a thing about it. I think one of the characters was really hairy. And they had an all-silver cover at one point. But even when I was 13, I knew that was just a lame and desperate plea for my attention.

In his books, L. Jon Wertheim, a senior writer for Sports Illustrated, offers inside-out looks at sports. In Venus Envy (2001), he explored the insular world of women’s tennis. In Transition Game (2005), he used a high-school team to show the way basketball is changing. (Even Foul Lines [2006], a novel he co-wrote, is a tale of NBA innocence lost.) And in his new book, Running the Table (2007), he uses the story of the wonderfully monikered Kid Delicious to chronicle a disappearing American archetype: the pool hustler.

As a former senior writer for Billiards Digest, it’s my pleasure to be Booklist’s designated pool-book reviewer. I thought Wertheim’s was awfully good, so I asked him some questions about it via e-mail.

In your acknowledgments, you write that the book grew out of a Sports Illustrated story. How did the article originate, and how did you decide it was worth a whole book?

I came across a story in the Wall Street Journal that alluded to Kid Delicious, an avowed pool hustler who alleged to have made $200,000 the previous year on the road. My “story radar” was beeping like crazy.

Describe your first encounter with Kid Delicious.

Even in the course of our initial phone conversation - you have to hear the guy’s outgoing voicemail message - I had a sense this was going to be fun. I met Da Kid at a Petey Fusco’s room outside Philly and we really hit it off. Then again, everyone does with him. Kid Delicious is the most disarming subject you’d ever want to meet. The guy was showing me his hustling tricks and regaling me with stories from the road. He had this big belly and great voice and I felt like I’d known him for years. I remember driving back to New York and talking with my editor. He said, “So you think there’s a story?” I was like, “Um, yeah. That would be a safe assumption.”

Was it helpful to have an outsider’s view, or did being an outsider make it harder to get the story?

Obviously there are drawbacks to lacking initial familiarity with the subject. But it was fun to immerse myself in a “foreign country” and - maybe I’m just clueless - but I think people appreciated my willingness to try and learn. The book is really about the culture and the characters, Da Kid in particular, and I think/hope that my ability to tell a story, describe a scene, analogize to other sports, etc., ultimately offset any pool shortcomings.

How did you research the book?

Kid Delicious and Bristol Bob [the Kid’s road partner] were the primary sources, obviously. But my attitude was “I’ll talk to anyone.” Again, I tried to interview as many people as I could. And with a few exceptions, if someone’s name appeared in the book, odds are good I spoke with them at one point or another. In the mean time, I hung out at pool rooms, read anything, asked a lot of questions and tried to treat this much the same way I would an SI assignment about an unfamiliar subject.

Pool players have a notoriously generous interpretation of the truth. Doing interviews, did you ever worry that you were getting hustled?

Absolutely. For my “day job” at Sports Illustrated there are usually multiple ways to verify details. Plus there is a rigorous fact-checking process. In the case of this book, there’s no newspaper account of Little John winning big that night in Cahokia, Illinois. Elias Sports Bureau can’t confirm the results of that ring game in Olathe, Kansas. Complicating matter further, men who make a living based on their skills for deception are not generally the ideal primary sources.

I knew, though, that this couldn’t simply be an exercise in dictation (i.e., Kid Delicious regaling me with stories and me retelling them). Whenever possible I tried to verify everything. There were some minor discrepancies, but I was impressed (and relieved) at how often Kid’s accounts were corroborated by others. I’m sure some players might come out of the woodwork with quibbles - “That set was one-pocket, not eight ball!” - but not once did I ask someone to corroborate a story and they replied, “I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

I’m assuming you must have read some other pool books as part of your research (The Bank Shot and Other Great Robberies, McGoorty, Playing Off the Rail, etc.). If so, which one was your favorite - or was there one that inspired you?

I devoured Playing Off the Rail. I thought it was exceptionally well done and I really envied the guy (David McCumber) for actually accompanying a hustler on the road. I think I wrote this in the book’s introduction, but I would give anything to have been able to accompany Kid Delicious on his adventures. I also read McGoorty, DiLiberto’s book [Road Player, by Jerry Forsyth], the screenplay for The Color of Money, and every article I could get my hands on. (But David McCumber, if you’re out there, please know you were a big inspiration.)

You write evocatively of seedy poolrooms. Any memorable first-hand encounters you can share?

Where to begin? Whenever possible, I tried to visit the poolrooms I wrote about. When I was on assignment for Sports Illustrated, I would try to duck away to, say, Snake’s Palace in Hattiesburg, Mississippi or Leisure Time in Davenport, Iowa or Airport Billiards in Indianapolis. I was driving back from Washington, D.C., and stopped at Jack and Jill’s in Glen Burnie, Maryland, which is - shall we say - authentic. I left my family in the car and came back twenty minutes later smelling like an ashtray. They were, um, not thrilled by this detour.

For all the shady poolrooms, my best stories came from the Derby City Classic. I remember standing next to Tony Stewart, the NASCAR driver, at about four in the morning while we waited for two guys to have a $500 foot race through the lobby. I stood there thinking, “Okay, I’m getting immersed now.”

You also write that Internet discussion boards and online poker are killing hustling. Are we truly witnessing the end of the hustling era?

That’s my sense. I think it’s a combination of factors. A) Internet technology. B) The poker boom, which seems to have siphoned a lot of players and gamblers. Especially with online poker, you don’t need to leave your bedroom to get guaranteed action. Time and time again I heard, “He used to hustle but now he just plays poker.” C) Also, I think a lot hustlers “came clean” to get on the IPT [International Pool Tour, a pro tour that promised huge payouts].

Are you worried whether pool players will find your book accurate? Or do you think pool players buy books?

I’m sure there will be some disagreement, but I’ll be disappointed if they don’t find it generally accurate. I tried to speak with as many people as possible and, again, not simply gloss over facts for the sake of the story. Obviously this is being marketed as a “mainstream book” but I expect (hope) that pool players read it.

As for whether I think pool players buy books, my answer is unequivocally “yes.” My sense is that because pool is such a special subculture - and maybe because it is somewhat embattled - the “members of the tribe” gobble up every book, movie, article, assessment they can. I hope I conveyed this in the book, but in my experience, pool players do a terrible job conforming to stereotype. They’re supposed to be shifty, shiftless, sinister characters. To a person, everyone I contacted could not have more accommodating, insightful, accountable and, for lack of a better word, cool. I really had a fun time writing this book. Danny was a big part of that, but so was talking to all the characters who inhabit the pool universe.

You do a great job documenting the chaos of men’s pro pool. Coming from Sports Illustrated, where you’ve written about professional sports that are big businesses and are run accordingly, was pool’s state of affairs surprising to you?

You know what was surprising? Pool players are so savvy and shrewd about making games and getting odds. Then some sweet-talking Music Man sweeps through and the same guys who were so discerning about that $50 game, suddenly become gullible and vulnerable. I think I wrote in the book that pool players ace microeconomics and fail macroeconomics.

Here’s a more positive spin: this sport is gaining in participation all over the world. It’s a global sport. It’s “coed.” The players are terrifically colorful. Television costs are fairly minimal. I think it’s only a matter of time until someone credible fills the void and figures out a way to create a viable pro pool tour.

Eight-ball, nine-ball, or one-pocket?

I should give some political answer. But I gotta go with nine-ball.