The Man Who Loved Dirty Books

In the late seventies and early eighties I was much taken by Graham Greene, and by the fact that he alternated straight novels with what he called entertainments. I thought I might do the same thing, and imagined a series of mysteries in which the title would refer to the murder victim. It was also my first crack—at least in fiction—at the subject of sexual obsession, both on the part of the victim and the narrator. What I discovered was that I’m not a true mystery writer, because my real interest was with the protagonist detective and his wife, not the crime. I think what was really going on was that I was writing about sexual obsession but keep myself at one remove.

Other Books by David Guy