He probably wouldn’t approve this message.
Charles Salzberg doesn’t blow his own horn. So, consider this a public service announcement. To let you, the world, know a few things about him.
Charles is a celebrated mystery writer, a superlative teacher, and an old friend. He wrote, among other thrillers, the Henry Swann series of detective novels, including Swann’s Way Out, Swann’s Lake of Despair and Swann’s Last Song. A writer no less than Lee Child has praised his work. Take a stroll through his website for the full story.
Charles has spent a lifetime helping other writers.
I know. I’m one. I remember many years ago when he got me a job. I was broke—not an uncommon situation at the time. Desperate. He got me a gig writing for a guidebook. Saved me! I could pay the rent! Just recently, he gave me the name of an editor he knows to whom I could send my new manuscript.
I know for a fact that legions of writers are beholden to him, though he would never see it that way. He’s gotten writers jobs. He’s gotten them readings at places they wouldn’t have had access to. He’s turned them on to his agent. (Many writers I know wouldn’t dream of doing that. Believe me, I’ve asked them.) He’s edited their work. When, for a while, he was a publisher himself, he published their books.
When I showed this piece about Charles to a friend, she said, “Can’t you give some more examples of his helping?” Yes, I can, but I don’t have the right to name those who have benefitted from Charles’ generosity. That’s his privilege, and I’m certain he wouldn’t do that. Look at it this way: I think if you gathered all the writers in New York City into a single room—or, more likely, into a single bar—half of them would have been helped by Charles over his forty-plus years, and counting, of largess.
Not to mention that, as a teacher, he’s inspired and guided hundreds of writers, some on to fame and fortune, all to a better sense of who they are, and can be, as writers.
Sometimes those of us who have benefitted from his aid swap stories about his generosity. We’re like a fraternity. A sprawling fraternity. Charles never asks for anything in return. It’s amazing to me that he still has time to write. He’s probably helping someone right now.
Brought to you by the committee to thank Charles Salzberg.
Charles invited me to do what I think was my first reading from my memoir, Life Inside, at a Saturday night reading series at KGB Bar over 20 years ago. I haven’t thanked him in a couple of decades, so I want to officially add my name to the long list of writers he’s supported and say, Thank you, Charles! And thank you, Richard, for your post. I don’t read many people’s blogs but rarely miss one of yours.
A lovely tribute.