One of my favorite writers, Robert B. Parker, passed away yesterday. So beloved are his Spenser books to me, it almost feels like the loss of a friend. I try not to personalize the deaths of strangers but Parker, with his warm face and deft, laugh out loud funny, and sensitive writing, didn't feel like one.

Ages ago, a friend recommended him to me and I remember sort of scoffing, recalling the somewhat cheesy series Spenser For Hire. I gave him a try, though, and was hooked. Through the years, I've followed other intelligent and deeply moral detectives and their mysterious and, yes, sexy sidekicks. Harlan Coben's Myron Bolitar and Windsor Horne Lockwood III. Robert Crais' Elvis Cole and Joe Pike... but Parker was the original for me and Spenser and Hawk adored and as dynamic a duo as any. Spenser could quote Shakespeare as easily as he could knock your lights out, and the books, with an excellent supporting cast of characters including his great love Susan, their dog Pearl and a crackling band of cops and thieves, are classics.

I don't think you have to be a mystery fan to enjoy Parker's writing. If you haven't, I definitely urge you to check him out. I'm incredibly sad there will be no more from the man but hope he's having a good time in the afterlife, sharing a scotch with Raymond Chandler.

Labels: robert b. parker