Don't Speak to Strange Girls

by Harry Whittington, Robert McGinnis (Illustrator)

''Tell yourself the cold truth—she’s a tramp!''

Clay Stuart flinched. ''I guess we’ve been enemies too long to be polite to each other, Kay.''

Kay’s voice was heated. ''For years I’ve been your doormat, secretary, armor, weapon...everything you needed.'' But Kay knew that was not entirely true. Even that first time they’d gone to bed—and how many women had he had since?—he’d been a blister of hurt and rages, ready to burst, and even then she’d known he needed something more.

And now he had it—in Joanne Stark, tease and tramp. And Joanne Stark was destroying him—destroying Clay Stuart, the guy who was known as Big Daddy Sex, sniffing out all the broads for miles around.

''If you ever manage to get rid of her,'' Kay said, ''you’ll never know how lucky you are.''

''Yeah'' Clay said. ''God knows I’m lucky. I stink with luck.''

160 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1963

About the author

He also wrote under the names Ashley Carter, Harriet Kathryn Myers, and Blaine Stevens, Curt Colman, John Dexter, Tabor Evans, Whit Harrison, Kel Holland, Suzanne Stephens, Clay Stuart, Hondo Wells, Harry White, Hallam Whitney, Henri Whittier, J.X. Williams.

Harry Whittington (February 4, 1915–June 11, 1989) was an American mystery novelist and one of the original founders of the paperback novel. Born in Ocala, Florida, he worked in government jobs before becoming a writer.

His reputation as a prolific writer of pulp fiction novels is supported by his writing of 85 novels in a span of twelve years (as many as seven in a single month) mostly in the crime, suspense, and noir fiction genres. In total, he published over 200 novels. Seven of his writings were produced for the screen, including the television series Lawman. His reputation for being known as 'The King of the Pulps' is shared with author H. Bedford-Jones. Only a handful of Whittington's novels are in print today.
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Reviews

[Dave · Rating 4 out of 5]

Don’t Speak to Strange Girls is a 1963 novel set in Hollywood and starring leading man Clay Stuart, who suddenly is going through a crisis as he buries his wife and no one in his circle can quite understand the depth of his sadness, not even his college age daughter. What Whittington cleverly does from that start is offer up a complex portrait of a man who is far more complex than his image would suggest. Because suddenly Clay is drowning and nothing seems to interest him, not enough the script for his next blockbuster. Nothing, that is, till he receives a telephone call out of the blue from a young woman looking for his first big break, JoAnne Stark. Her wide-eyed small-town appeal gives Clay something new and fresh, that is, till it becomes an obsession that nearly undoes him. Here, we get a glimpse into how people are far more than we see on the surface and how the silver screen sometimes doesn’t show who they really are and sometimes shows far too much. It’s an intricate dance between Clay and Joanne, one no one in his circle approves of, and one that quickly looses its sheen as so often happens and nothing is ever the same again.

[Steven · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating novel, but Whittington fans be warned, this is not really a crime/noir. The charged setup is all there with obsession threatening to go off the rails. Whittington builds and builds the tension and then just doesn't let the story derail in the way a typical crime/noir novel would. This is much more a work of character-based literary fiction than a genre novel. And Whittington sets those expectations right at the beginning. The first chapter is a set piece of beautifully crafted character development. Clay Stuart is a famous actor and we are inside his head as he leaves his wife's funeral. He is surprised by his grief and we see and feel how he deals with it. But the POV is omniscient and Whittington deftly goes inside three other characters: Stuart's manager, agent, and daughter. So a deeper view of Stuart, now from the outside, but the other characters are brought to life from the inside, too, which means they will not be mere bit players as the novel progresses.

The pacing is a bit slower because we linger inside these characters during moments when not a lot action is going on. The primary plot driver is Stuart's entourage trying to get him back to work on a new movie. He's reluctant, resists all efforts. And then he starts getting phone calls from a mysterious woman who knows his unlisted number. He puts her off at first and then finally invites her over. When he meets her:

He thought that the look of her warned you, if you were smart enough to sense the warning. She could make you joyous or miserable for the rest of your life, but you were never going to relax completely as long as she was part of your existence. There would be no plateaus in the life of the man who got himself entangled with this one. The slender body bore full breasts like overripe fruit. A man could feel his eyes bleeding.

And thus begins Clay Stuart's obsession with Joanne Stark. She plays pull-push. Seducing first, then keep away. He goes stalker-ish. Meanwhile, his entourage is trying to make him realize what's going on with Joanne, that it can't end well. They are also trying to get him back to work on what the director thinks will be an epic western. He's having none of it. Whittington then dishes up a series of great scenes that escalate the obsession and the sense that this will all end in typical noir self-destruction.

One sweet bit of craft is that the only character Whittington doesn't dip inside of with his omniscient POV is Joanne Stark. There is some loss in not seeing her from the inside-out, in having her motivations attributed by others. On the other hand, Whittington gives her some powerful scenes, and some tough, willful dialog, and lets her arc unfold that way. This puts a lot of tension in the overall story and, ultimately, withholding her POV is the only way the ending could work.

Great book to read when you are in the mood for more character development than action. And for writers who like to geek-out on craft, Whittington is in top-form here and there's just a bunch of techniques to study.

[Carla Remy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I did not like the plot of this, though it had good scenes, and I do like Whittington's writing (I will read more of his). I guess this one really isn't typical for him anyway, not being crime, more of a typical Hollywood story.

[Joe Nicholl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Don't Speak to Strange Girls by Harry Whittington (1963) is a pretty good book and I enjoyed it very much. Prolific author Whittingon is one of the Kings of Pulp but Strange Girls is a little different than his usual. One, he moved his normal local from middle Florida to Hollywood, CA, and two, instead of the down & out poor he takes a look at the rich & beautiful. Recently widowed mega-movie star Clay Stuart is down in the dumps having lost interest in keeping his film career moving along since the passing of his wife. Then along comes a hot young thang, Joanne, and Clay falls for her...While still in the land of Pulp, this book is well written, plotted and paced delivering a page-turner. Without spoiling the story it becomes an inverse A Star is Born; in fact, this is the kind of story I would have expected Nathanael West to have delivered in The Day of the Locust but I felt he didn't do so. So, if you want a tale of Hollywood that's a quick read give Strange Girls a go, it's entertaining and I think all would like it...Recommended.....4 outta 5 Hollywood Stars!

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s only after the death of his wife Ruth that Clay Stuart realized his life has meant nothing. The couple were unhappily distanced, and it’s not like Stuart lacked money or power—even pushing fifty he’s still “Big Daddy Sex” to his legions of fans, one of the most powerful and respected actors in Hollywood. But his perspective has changed after Ruth’s passing and he languishes over what could have been, every memory from his long but utterly failed marriage cutting at his soul as he retreats behind a mask of stoic manliness. Clay has nowhere to go, and refuses to turn to anyone for aid.

Clay Stuart’s career is left by the wayside despite pressure from his only real friends—his agent, manager, and secretary, watching the tortured man suffer in silence. Thinking of ways to get him out of the rut, they take Clay to his old haunts, yet his past hobbies of hunting, fishing, and womanizing fail to pull him out of his misery. And that is when Clay’s troubles really begin: when he becomes acquainted with Joanne Stark, Clay moves from depression to complete obsession. Is he finally recovering from the finality of his wasted marriage, a sign of Clay’s return to the real world? Or is this dangerous tramp luring him farther down the rabbit hole, the ubiquitous gold-digger his friends and family tried to protect him from…

Let’s be clear, here: the book is a very slow-burn, and is more of a human drama than a crime caper. For Don’t Speak To Strange Girls, those are not flaws, they are the book’s assets. Whittington’s more-than-capable prose drew me into the story and kept me reading, and I was rewarded with rich, deep characters caught up in a tense struggle of human drama: a battle of love. In this case, it’s whose love is stronger—Clay’s love for Joanne, Joanne’s lust for fame, or the love of Clay’s friends and family for the broken and obsessed actor. It’s a fight between Clay’s internal selfishness and his self-sacrifice. It’s pretty compelling stuff.

(Full review found here.)

[Randy Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Bleak Hollywood Story

Unlike a lot of Whittington’s work, this isn’t a crime novel. In a way, it’s a love story, but it’s as dark and sad a love story as you’ll ever read. The main character, Clay Stuart, is a 1950’s Hollywood movie star whose wife has just died. He soon meets a young woman, Joanna Stark, and falls head over heels in love. And, as you would expect, things go bad. I have to admit, I was never really sure where the story was going, so it definitely held my interest. And Whittington does a great job of showing us just how miserable a man in love can be. There’s also some pretty shrewd analysis of why people do the things they do in these situations. All in all, a well written and engaging piece of noir fiction, even without a robbery or a murder to spice things up.

[Rob Smith, Jr. · Rating 3 out of 5]

A somewhat over-written, yet otherwise well-written, tale told many times over the past one hundred years. Either involving Hollywood, writers, politics, etc... Stories of those seeking fame.
For me, the story was well-tread territory and I knew where it was going.

The characters are very well formed. The settings are lacking.

I'm guessing this is reflecting Whittington's experiences with Hollywood.

Bottom line: I recommend this book. 5 out of 5 points.

[Jeff · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well you can't really go wrong with Harry Whittington Gold Medal crime novels. The problem is, it turns out this really isn't a crime novel and isn't all that interesting. The first third of the book is really slow. Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad book, it's just not great.