Some clever person once memorably described American crime writer Elmore Leonard (1925-2013) as “the poet laureate of wild assholes with guns”, apparently to Leonard’s own amused satisfaction. And ours. We wish we’d written that. Someone else called him “The Dickens of Detroit”. Not bad, we like that too. So we applied ourselves to the task…
And in just a minute or so we came up with “The doyen of dim crims”. Well, not fantastic but pretty good, yes? And if we took a bit more time over it, who knows what else we might cook up. (The “Dimestore Dostoevsky” is another height to aim for but that description was applied to fellow American crime writer Jim Thompson (1906-1977). Oh, it’s all good fun.)
So better for the moment, then, to re-read Leonard, the man whose “Ten Rules of Writing” were printed in The New York Times in 2001 and included such gems as “Never open a book with weather”, “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip” and “Keep your exclamation points under control”. Memorably, he summed them up so: – “If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.”
Well, when you write the rules you can break them too, it seems, and “Swag” does have a rare instance of Leonard ignoring one – “Never use an adverb to modify the verb said” – with: “Frank said, impatiently”. Swag” was first published in 1976 and is one of three Leonard novels re-released this mid-2025, along with “The Switch” (1978) and “Rum Punch” (1992). More will follow later this year and in 2026, including some of the Westerns with which Leonard began his career in the 1950s before turning to outright crime. His books haven’t been out of print, it’s just that every now and then it’s time for fresh outings with arty new covers.
Frank Ryan and Ernest Stick Jr., “Stick”, are the two protagonists in “Swag”. Frank, a used-car salesman, finds car thief Stick about to steal a maroon ’73 Camaro from his front lot. They wisecrack a bit. “Maybe you think this is yours because you got one like it,” Stick says, sitting in the car. “You say it’s yours, you want to show me the registration?” Frank asks. “Fuck no,” Stick replies, and drives off, leaving Frank standing there.
The police catch him and Frank picks out Stick in a line-up (“You sure he’s the one?” “I’m sure it isn’t one of those cops.”) but then suddenly decides not to identify Stick in court. Instead, he has had an idea: armed robbery would be better than selling used cars and he needs a partner. Who better than this pleasant drifter with a knack for stealing cars?
And Frank has 10 rules for success and happiness, written on cocktail napkins at various bars. These are “(1) Always be polite on the job. Say please and thank you, (2) Never say more than is necessary, (3) Never call your partner by name – unless you use a made-up name, (4) Dress well. Never look suspicious or like a bum, (5) Never use your own car (details to come), (6) Never count the take in the car, (7) Never flash money in a bar or with women, (8) Never go back to an old bar or hangout once you have moved up, (9) Never tell anyone your business. Never tell a junkie even your name, and (10) Never associate with people known to be in crime.” Says Stick “I think you got an idea… a wild-ass idea,,, but you never know, do you?”
They get guns and go to work: liquor stores, supermarkets, bars, mom and pop shops. The haul varies – too many people are using credit cards. Nothing too big though, no banks. And no gas stations because too many guys work there, some hard-looking, with wrenches and tyre irons.
Frank’s rules do indeed launch a successful career in armed robbery, better than they’d ever imagined. The partners pull off 31 robberies in the Detroit area in a few months, netting in six figures. They stash some in a bank, spend up on clothes and other baubles, and move into a suburban apartment where a lot of young, shapely women – Frank and Stick call them “career girls” – live and hang around the pool. Frank and Stick keep a pile of cash in a detergent box under the sink for their party lifestyle.
As is often the case with Leonard, his tales are written primarily or partly from a criminal perspective. “Swag” follows the two miscreants, not detectives on their trail. The cops don’t enter until near the end. And Frank and Stick are fairly likeable fellows. Leonard’s forte for dialogue, an everyday urban rhythm, is to the fore, such as when they talk about the benefits of health clubs. Stick: “I could never do pushups and all that shit… I don’t know, it sounds good, but it’s so fucking boring. The thing to do, just don’t eat so much.”
Leonard has fun. There’s the Armenian store owner who refuses to hand over any money, even at gunpoint. Frank and Stick have to leave empty-handed. Stick rings up a woman’s groceries in a supermarket while Frank is making the manager open the safe in the office. The two are having a quiet drink in a bar when a hold-up guy robs it, so Frank and Stick rob him in turn and lock him and the staff and patrons in the liquor storeroom. Next day when they’re all freed the hold-up guy has been severely beaten and the others are all “in a festive state of intoxication”.
Frank and Stick aren’t as dumbass as many of Leonard’s characters but slowly things begin to fall apart. They’re living the high life but they start bickering. Nya, nya, nya, like little kids, says Frank. Who’s taking more money from under the sink? You had the car before and I want it now. You want to break the rules, I don’t. Two guys, working together, living together, getting on each other’s nerves, just like other couples.
By now Frank is getting cocky and wanting to stretch out. One big job and retire for a while. He persuades a reluctant Stick, whose main aim is to get to Florida to see his little girl, who lives with his ex-wife. But their comfortable life gets blown to bits because their overconfidence and greed mean bigger risks, working with other criminals who are more professional and ruthless.
Leonard’s own 10 rules of writing are enlightening. Apart from those mentioned above, others are – Avoid prologues; Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue; Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said” … ; Never use the words “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose”; Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly; Avoid detailed descriptions of characters; and Don’t go into great detail describing places and things.
He gives his explanations, such as for the one about never using a verb other than “said” – “The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But said is far less intrusive than grumbled, gasped, cautioned, lied. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with ‘she asseverated,’ and had to stop reading to get the dictionary.”
Another gifted writer in another time, William Somerset Maugham (1874-1965), had his own dictum, that stories be neatly constructed with a beginning, a middle and an end. “Swag” has an irresistible beginning, 106 words that set you up for the whole book, then the rapid-fire plot and snappy dialogue provide a fun crime caper in the middle. And the ending is perfect, right up to the very last page. “Swag” is among the best of Elmore Leonard.
