Charlie Stella is not only a damn fine writer, but a hell of a nice guy. After a few hours of wheedling from the editors here at the Crime Scene he agreed to contribute a few words about his latest novel, Cheapskates, and his writing in general. Find out what Charlie Says right here...

Maybe it’s his experience writing off-off Broadway plays, maybe he’s just got an instinct for rhythm. Whatever it is, Charlie Stella is one of the best dialoguers currently working the beat. His characters talk with rhythm and confidence, each one standing out from his first line. Whatever it takes to do dialogue, Stella’s got it down pat.

Right from the opening of his latest novel, Cheapskates, you’re thrust into the NYC rhythms of Stella’s wiseguys. Just a conversation about driving taxis and couples arguing, but you hear the voices of these two mobsters clear as a damn bell. And even better than that, you know where they’re sitting, what they’re doing, who they’re watching, with prose that never loses its sharp focus. We’ve said it before, Stella’s like Elmore Leonard writing an episode of the Sopranos, and Cheapskates, even in the first few pages, only confirms that comparison.

Reese Waters is released from prison along with his cellmate, Peter Rizzo. Rizzo’s in for assaulting his ex wife’s boyfriend, but he wants to forget all that and move on, get the money she owes him. When Rizzo winds up dead, Reese figures he’s got to see justice done; the least Rizzo’s ex can do is pay for the funeral with the money she owed. But the ex is in bed with a mobster who owns more bad wigs than Joe Pantoliano, and the money suddenly seems to be more than just what’s owed to Reese’s buddy. And then Reese has his own problems to contend with, what with the untimely death of his own mother, someone shooting holes through his door and two NYC detectives keeping a close eye on his movements. It’s going to get ugly before it gets better.

Reese is the perfect protagonist; an everyman with his own agenda, he gets involved because he feels the need to help out a friend. But he’s no angel, and that’s probably what’s most appealing about this character. He’s got a code of honour, but that doesn’t make him some kind of “good guy”. He’s no hero; just a normal guy trying to do what he thinks is the right thing. The other characters, too, are a credit to Stella’s ability. From Jimmy “Wigs” Valentine who moves smoothly between comic relief and a credibly threatening mob guy to Mustafa, a member of the Nation of Islam and good friend to Reese’s deceased cellmate, who chose his free name after watching The Lion King, there’s something endearingly eccentric and yet concretely real about Stella’s cast.

Stella lets these guys find their own way through the plot. He knows how to set them up and he knows how to sit back and let the chaos unfold. This is writing so natural, you barely notice it. When everything finally pulls together, you find yourself grinning both at the surprise and the unexpected inevitability of it all.

The most impressive thing about any Stella book is the way he just sits back and lets his characters go about things their own way. And part of the delight here is just kicking back and spying on Reese and company. The opening dialogue between mobster Johnny Mauro and mob muscle Tommy Burns is both mundane and grippingly cool. They’re shooting the shit, talking about taxi cabs and argumentative couples, but Stella imbibes what could, in other hands, be a pretty dull conversation with the kind of spark that you just want to keep reading. Stella’s gift is to make his dialogue spark with purpose and cool. But don’t think, just because Stella’s the master of the well-turned phrase and the king of cool conversation, that this is a book where guys just sit around talking, because when Stella kicks the action, he’s just as comfortable getting his people into confrontation physically as verbally. The final confrontation, where Stella masterfully brings all his plotlines to a head in Lower Manhattan, is orchestrated brilliantly and is crying out for the movie treatment. Stella’s books seem to cry out for the right kind of cool director to bring them to life on the silver screen.

It’s the balance of humour and drama that many otherwise fine writers have problems with. Either the humour’s too broad or the drama’s unconvincing. Stella’s got the balance here, relying on realistic laughs that never diminish the serious stakes of the story. He’s a funny man, but he’s got that hard edge to his work that keeps the stakes serious and the cast’s characters uncompromised.

Dealing with greed, honour and the trouble with tough exes, Stella’s fourth novel delivers on the promise of his previous books. He’s a natural storyteller, a sparkling dialoguer and a keen observer of the more selfish aspects of human nature. Cheapskates is a fast moving, slick talking ride, people with eccentrically believable characters. Even the cheapskates among you won’t mind parting with your hard earned cash for a read like this.