James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
James Ellroy walked onstage Saturday in teal slacks, a bubble gum pink button-up and white Converse sneakers, motioning for the L.A. Times Festival of Books audience to keep up its roar of applause greeting him and his interviewer, crime novelist Michael Connelly.
Friday night at the 43rd L.A. Times Book Prizes, Ellroy received the Robert Kirsch Award for lifetime achievement, and Connelly kicked off the discussion by asking Ellroy how he felt about it. âIt was the most significant and pertinent award Iâve ever received,â Ellroy told the crowd at USCâs Bovard Auditorium.
âWidespread Panicâ is Ellroyâs latest crime novel, and Connelly said itâs his best.
The book follows Freddy Otash, a real-life Los Angeles Police officer, private eye, Hollywood fixer and head goon for Confidential magazine through 1950s Hollywood. Ellroy researched the book more than 30 years ago with Otash himself.
Ellroy said he humanized Otash for âWidespread Panicâ but still described the man as the âevil godfather of the TMZ scandal rag era.â
âHe was a freelance extortionist and had hotel suites hot-wired all over the city. He had the dirt, the skank, the skinny â and it was all true,â Ellroy said. âFreddy was in his heart a chicken, he was charmless, he was brutal.â
For Ellroy, the old saying of âif you donât have something nice to say, donât say anything at all,â does not apply. Ellroy talked at great length about his love for all things Los Angeles, especially the LAPD, and his hate for the late Raymond Chandler, James Dean, cancel culture, the film adaption of âL.A. Confidentialâ and his complete disinterest in literature that isnât about crime or thatâs written outside of America.
âRaymond Chandler is full of [crap],â he said. âHe wrote the man he wanted to be. I hate Chandler.â
âPeople love the movie âL.A. Confidential,ââ Ellroy said. âI think itâs turkey of the highest form. I think Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger are impotent. The director [Curtis Hanson] died, so now I can disparage the movie.â
Ellroy on his own reading habits: âIâve read almost no work by non-American writers,â he said. âWhat can I say, Iâm the American Dostoevsky and Iâve never read the guy.â
Ellroy continued that he didnât care about St. Petersburg, Russia, in the 1860s (âCrime and Punishmentâ) and that, for him, âitâs gotta be Los Angeles, itâs gotta be about my love for the Los Angeles Police Department.â
In more expletive-laden language, Ellroy said he loves a tough police department. âI love the LAPD, and they kicked my tall skinny [butt] on three notable occasions,â he said. âI have not stolen so much as a paper clip in 53 years. My relationship with the Los Angeles Police Department is in no way P.C., itâs in no way current, itâs in no way topical. Itâs loving, Itâs paternal.â
When an audience member asked Ellroy what he thought of cancel culture, the âBlack Dahliaâ author quipped, âI think itâs a bunch of [crap]. I think you canât let fear run your life. I think censorship is permeating, soul destroying and polluting our country.â
Itâs fairly well-known among crime novel connoisseurs that Ellroyâs fixation on crime stemmed from the 1958 rape and murder of his mother, when he was 10 years old. He worked with the LAPD for 15 months investigating the case, which still remains unsolved, and used the experience when penning his 1996 memoir, âMy Dark Places.â
When it was time for the Q&A, an audience member asked Ellroy about the murder of his mother and what he would say to her if she were here today. âSheâs not here,â he snapped.
âWe werenât close. I donât think about my motherâs death much anymore.â
Connelly offered some levity to the awkward exchange, with a joke about closure being stuffed where the sun donât shine, and Ellroy started to stroke the air, miming masturbation, and said, âYeah I got your closure swinginâ 12 inches right here.â
