Private Eye State of Mind

Lately I've been reading a lot of noir. I just finished Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler (loved it) and two comic books, The Fade Out (meh) and 100 Bullets: Book I (can't put it down). Part of the thrill of noir is the authors' skill in capturing character's voices. "An' Diz, lemme tell you somethin' 'bout your man Hector...He may have given up bangin'...but not the control." Crime bosses insult and negotiate and scream with words that are all their own.My favorite noir is Chandler's. In addition to Farewell, My Lovely I've read The Big Sleep and The Long Goodbye. The tone is constant throughout: Philip Marlowe, private detective, scorns authority and the odds and works cases, for the right price. He's cool, he's a realist, he's savvy, he's unflappable. Noir unites the beautiful and the grungy. A painting wreathed in cigarette smoke. Taking a punch for the highest of reasons: to solve the mystery. That's noir.Today the exercise is to write a passage in the style of noir.***The rain made Ellison Avenue look like a good place. Mostly because you couldn’t see three feet past the end of your nose. I was trailing a fellow who looked like a mop and a mannequin had gotten friendly: long dreadlocks and porcelain white skin. That was how the dame had described him. A suit ran across the street, a newspaper held uselessly over his head. A neon sign sputtered and buzzed in the downpour. Milly’s. I had a good feeling about Milly’s. I went inside. I should listen to my feelings less.A fist met my face just past the doorframe. The punch hurt, which was good, since it meant I wasn’t unconscious. I staggered back and cocked my hands back. Eddie Vardman, the mop man, came at me, all knuckles and fury. I slapped his punches aside and gave him a push with my foot. He didn’t weigh much. It was like punting a teddy bear.I stepped into Milly’s. I didn’t have a good feeling about the place anymore. Eddie Vardman was clutching his sternum and cursing louder than the thunder outside. He reached toward his back pocket.“Enough of that,” I said.I patted my piece, loud enough to make a clink.“No need to get funny. Let’s have a chat. One hundred percent serious.”***Getting Started: 3Character: 3Point of View and Tone: 3Plot and Narrative: 2Dialogue and Voice: 2Descriptive Language and Setting: 2Revision: 2Overall: 2*Level 2*