dennis scharnberg

“It’s Vic as in Victor,” he said, “and Tim as in Timothy.”

Corliss Archer, Boarding the Crazy Train.

By the post-war years, modernism had become academic. One was invited to matriculate one’s way to the status of cultural outlaw.

Paul Uccelo, The Enigma of the Box.

“Of course, even his best work is anemic,” said Mr. Moone.  “Aggressively anemic.  That’s what I would call it.”

Chadwick Graves, One Damned Thing After Another.

“There is very little time,” said Matthew calmly.  “Almost none, in fact.”

Giles Coxe-Coburn, Belief in Insects.

“Yes, Margaret.  But who actually gives a damn about your sanity?”

Jane Chetwynde, The Have-Not Faradays.

“If the odds are good,” wondered Evan, “might not the goods be odd?”

Kiefer Sythe, The Detective Club.

 It’s what wasn’t there that mattered.  It was a room full of absence.

Ellery Close,  The Erasmus Homicides.

“Damn it, Howard.  Can’t you see that a woman has become upset?  And that all things must stop?  Immediately?”

Anselm Bligh, A Collection of Miniatures.

Anything that did happen is something that could have been prevented.  “That,” said Mr. Talbot, “is the message of history.”

Thaddeus Crewes, Crowded Evil World.

Sophistication is an elaborate—sometimes dazzling—form of emptiness.

Pamela Hrothgar, No Stone Unturned.