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Harry Bloch is a struggling writer who pumps out pulpy serial novels—from vampire books to detective stories—under various pseudonyms. But his life begins to imitate his fiction when he agrees to ghostwrite the memoir of Darian Clay, New York City’s infamous Photo Killer. Soon, three young women turn up dead, each one murdered in the Photo Killer’s gruesome signature style, and Harry must play detective in a real-life murder plot as he struggles to avoid becoming the killer’s next victim.
Witty, irreverent, and original, The Serialist is a love letter to books—from poetry to pornography—and proof that truth really can be stranger than fiction.
335 pages, Paperback
First published March 9, 2010
It all began the morning when, dressed like my dead mother and accompanied by my fifteen-year-old schoolgirl business partner, I opened the letter from death row and discovered that a serial killer was my biggest fan.That hook follows a bit of preamble, including this line, which is the first line of the book:
The first sentence of a novel is the most important, except maybe for the last, which can stay with you after you've shut the book, the way the echo of a closing door follows you down the hall.These two lines should give you an idea of both the humor in the book, and how it plays with the narrative structure, as the narrator, Harry Bloch, is a writer of pulp genre fiction novels. His bibliography, all written under pen names, includes an erotic space opera series, an erotic detective series starring a black man from Harlem, and an erotic vampire series.