Archive for Adam Snavely

Pool Side Pushover by Adam Snavely (Kozy Books, 1961)

Posted in pulp fiction, Vintage Sleaze Paperbacks with tags , , on March 6, 2011 by vintagesleazepaperbacks

The other Adam Snavely’s we read last year were a mixture of good and blah. Wine, Women and Love and Love Drive were published by Kozy Books, like this one

Pool Side Pushover opens like great comic slapstick.  A young piano moves into an apartment building and is greeted by his new neighbors, most who are sexy single girls who make it known they are interested in some action then or later.  He just wants to move into his new pad quietly and play his piano alone, but the women and men,, too, keep coming. The mailman informs him that the complex is one big swinger scene with a plethora of wild loose women, woman the mailman has had sex with.

The following chapters, and the whole book, do not live up to promise of this openin; it suffers from jumping around too many characters and all their sexual trysts. Then again, as a newstand one hand book, perhaps this sort of  plotless hodgepodge of sex scenes worked.

Love Drive by Adam Snavely (Kozy #181, 1963)

Posted in Orrie Hitt, pulp fiction, Vintage Sleaze Paperbacks with tags , , , on November 30, 2009 by vintagesleazepaperbacks

The curious thing about this Snavely novel is that the interior title page lists Orrie Hitt as the author, causing some to wonder if Snavely was a Hitt pen name:

At first, I thought this could be a Hitt book — the protagonist is a con man with a number of female lovers, but as I read more, I realized this was not Hitt, but the same author of Wine, Women and Love and The Big Flick.

So what happened here?  In the Kozy catalogue of books in the back of some of these volumes, Kozy #169 is listed as Love Drive by Orrie Hitt, yet this Love Drive is #181, with #180 listed on the back cover: Hitt’s Strip Alley (the Kozys usually had the proceeding or next title in the series on the back).

Kozy #169 is actually Hitt’s Love Slave, so seems it was all a bit of confusion on the editorial production side.  This happened often in quickie sleaze publishing — but usually the real author’s name would be on the title page, with a pen name on the cover, as Nightstand did with some John Dexters.  Bedstand Books put Harry Whittington’s name on a Shep Sheppard novel, but it seems Whittington was not Shepard.

It still happens. Blue Moon Books once ran 5,000 copies of Michael Perkin’s Burn with my name on the cover, and had to pulp the entire run and re-do it.

No other writer’s name ever appeared on my books, though, maybe because I always checked the galleys and covers for mistakes (such as misspelling my name).

Onto Love Drive

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Wine, Women, and Love by Adam Snavely (Kozy Books #160, 1962)

Posted in crime noir, Orrie Hitt, pulp fiction, Vintage Sleaze Paperbacks with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 25, 2009 by vintagesleazepaperbacks

When I previously examined Adam Snavely’s The Big Flick, I was impressed and wondered who this guy was, or whose pen name it was and to date I still don’t know (I have heard Adam Coulter, but I don’t know who that is either).  “Snavely” published seven books with Kozy, the rest are Bait, 2-4 Sex, Love Drive, Pool Side Pushover, and Split Level Love. I will get to them all eventually — they are all set in Los Angeles, so that’s one clue; the writer was probably L.A.-located.

Wine, Women and Love is a subtle suspense thriller involving domestic espionage, blackmail, and a group of shady government operatives.  The protagonist is a woman in her mid to late 20s, Peggy Porter; the first chapter opens with her in bed with some drunk man, a man who is important in some way.  She has lured him to her hotel room.  Just as the clothes are off and they are in the middle of coitus, several men burst into the room and start taking photos.

The intention here: blackmail the guy.

At first you think they’re grifters targeting rich men, or private eyes, but we get the sensation — it’s never quite said, only hinted at — that Peggy works for these government agents who target certain “key” men in Los Angeles with blackmail and extortion, to make use of at a later date. The group is headed by a sleazy suit named Al Manning, who seems to be power hungry in the political arena.  Is he an operative of . Edgar Hoover?  The operation sounds like the sort of illegal doings Hoover had FBI agents do in the 1950s-70s.

Peggy isn’t an agent; she seems to be a woman with some sort of criminal entanglement,  possible conviction, and she herself is under extorted measures:  she is doing this to keep out of prison.  She’s not the only one; the group has several women working undercover to get dirt and sleaze from various people….

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The Big Flick by Adam Snavely (Kozy Books, 1961)

Posted in Orrie Hitt, Vintage Sleaze Paperbacks with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 3, 2009 by vintagesleazepaperbacks

Snavely - Big FlcikAlong with Jerry Goff, Max Collier, and John Turner, Adam Snavely is my next “big find,” and he’s at the top of the heap.  I have no idea who he really was, but he did a dozen or so books for Kozy.

Snavely may have been a house pseudonym, as a quick glance at a few titles I have, the writing styles look different.  One of them, Love Drive, credits Snavely on the cover, but on the title page the book is called The Love Drive by Orrie Hitt, also listed that way in the back of book catalogue of a number of Kozy books I have.  I’m not sure yet if Love Drive is Orrie Hitt, haveb’t scrutinized yet, but it’s set in L.A., not Hitt territory. Could be Kozy had titled a Hitt book Love Drive and changed it in favor of Snavely…

The Big Flick is also set in L.A. and the film industry.  The protagonist is 20-something Terry Wilson, a young writer with a smash first novel and a collection of stories on th way.  An old college friend, Zip Zachery, has established himself as a hot young producer with a couple of hit indie films under his belt, and has brought his old buddy Wilson to Tinsel Town to write his next film.  What that film is is anyone’s guess — there is no script, not even a treatment or idea, as  Zachery has rounded investors and studio backing based on the strength of Wilson’s hit novel. He’s also casting small parts for actresses, in exchange for investment from parents and sex from the eager starlets.

Whoever wrote this odd little Hollywood novel wrongly packaged as a sleaze wank book knows the business of filmmaking and the seediness of behind-the-scenes machinations of sex, lies, and double-speak required to get stories on screen.

This is territory I know well myself, having dealt with producers, agents, actors, and other types in Tinsel Town. (See the indie flick I wrote, The Watermelon, now distributed on DVD and Blu-Ray; plus I have had published novels and screenplays optioned here and there,won some screenwriting and festival awards, have optioned and pitched TV pilots, had a short documentary screen at Cannes last May, and soon.) There are some scenes and situations in this book that ring true to my experience, and probably just about any other writer whose virgin eyes have been popped when the illusion of Hollywood is shattered like a cheap wine bottle, and the whole tawdriness and ugliness of how things really work is revealed like a drunk, old, and worn stripper in a dark hole-in-the-wall bar.

Why The Big Flick wound up with Kozy is anyone’s guess  — was the author unable to place it with a mainstream house?  It could have been a Dell, Avon, Pryamid, or Ace title at the time, companies that surely paid better than Kozy.

The sexual stuff is minimal, as the case usually is with some sleazecore books; the core is a well-written yarn of a reclusive literary author’s slow corruption with sex, booze, and drugs as people chase after dreams of the visual image on the silver screen and all the lies fame and fortune Hollywood presents to the neophyte, writer, actress, directors alike.  It is a business truly run by fast-talking “producers” who are two steps away from the label con artist or thief.

Although published decades before Robert Downey, Jr., there is a Downey-like character, a damn fine actor who keeps having to go to detox, running off sets with models and hookers, and just a mess…

Wilson is placed in a hotel room, then an  apartment, to write the script.  He has been assigned a “secretary” who takes care of his any sexual need, but he has his heart set on this actress, Harriett.  Eventually he moves in with her.

Zachery goes over budget and to get more money, he signs a three-film contract with the distributors to do some monster movies. “Find me a lizard!” he cries.

When the movie screens, Wilson thinks it’s horrible but the audiences like it, get gets more writing work, the reviews are good…he doesn’t understand how Hollywood can like the crap the movie came out as, but he takes the money, the actress, and the life…