Crime fiction is an art best left to criminals. Or reformed criminals, at least. If one has never roamed the mean streets in the panics of heroin withdrawal, looking for their next quick score, then the writing may suffer. Something about being slammed down in a dirty cell, full of a dozen other dangerous reprobates, seems to get those creative juices flowing. There is nothing like a high-speed chase followed by a shootout with police to act as a muse.
I have tried reading crime fiction written by those who had never lived it. Authors such as James Ellroy or Elmore Leonard, to me, have all the flavor of boiled cauliflower. They know how to turn a phrase but not the dials on a peeled safe. It’s hard to grip this reader in the jaws of impending death when your fangs have never grown sharp enough. There are exceptions, of course. Jim Thompson comes to mind, but for the most part, this is a genre best left to those whose classroom was a cell block rather than a lecture hall.
Each of the writers below left behind a documented criminal career along with literary trails that are, at the very least, worth a look. I will be sticking to contemporary American authors (sorry, Chopper Read), as crime fiction can be traced back as early as the sixth century.
Iceberg Slim
The Godfather of Ghetto Lit, the man may be solely responsible for hip hop’s romanticism of the trafficking of women. As with many of the writers on this list, Slim (born Robert Lee Maupin, later known as Robert Beck) began his literary career with a non-fiction memoir before delving into fiction. Possessing a genius IQ, he delivered a lettered bitch slap with his release of Pimp: The Story of My Life, written after leaving prison and the pimp game behind.
He continued to write until he died in 1992, with seven novels, two non-fiction autobiographical works, and a short story collection. Painting an unabashedly brutal portrait of street life, Trick Baby and Long White Con are highly recommended. Slim was the guy who opened the floodgates and started it all.
Donald Goines
A disciple of Iceberg Slim, Goines’ short and prolific writing career began while incarcerated in a Michigan state prison. After developing what would be a lifelong addiction to heroin during a stint in the Korean War, he turned to pimping, drug dealing, and armed robbery to support his habit. Goines knocked out an astonishing 16 novels in four years, all of them dealing with the ugly face of street life and the criminal underworld.
Donald’s newfound career would be cut short when he was murdered in 1974, along with his wife, in his own home. The shootings remain unsolved and theories for the motive range from a drug deal gone wrong to street justice meted out by criminals who were none too pleased with having their likenesses fictionalized for all to read.
Goines gets shoutouts in way too many rap songs to even attempt to count. He was, for a time, the most read author in United States prisons, and his works are cited as the first book that many incarcerated individuals had ever read. My favorites and most recommended titles of his are: Dopefiend, White Man’s Justice, Black Man’s Grief, and Black Gangster. Most of his novels have, surprisingly, never been adapted into movies. One of the two which have, Never Die Alone, produced by rapper DMX, was an odd choice, as it is Goines’ only novel with a white protagonist.
Edward Bunker
My favorite writer on this list, Bunker’s early life was a textbook example of what could go wrong in a child’s upbringing to lead them into a life of crime. Born in 1933 to absentee and alcoholic parents, he began running away and committing petty crimes at the age of five. This set him permanently down the path of being “state-raised,” with his crimes becoming more serious, resulting in longer and longer sentences. The long road of boys’ homes, juvenile hall and reformatories, to county jails and notorious California state prisons, San Quentin and Folsom, Bunker rubbed elbows with a who’s who of California outlaws— from Billy Cook and Caryl Chessman to members of the Manson Family and Mexican Mafia heavyweight Joe Morgan.
Inspired by other prison writers, Bunker authored his first novel, No Beast So Fierce, while still locked down. Its unapologetic realism blew readers’ minds and also caught the attention of Hollywood. It was adapted into a phenomenal film by Dustin Hoffman and ensured Bunker’s place in the movie industry after his parole in 1975. Unlike other notorious shitbags, like Jack Henry Abbott, he never again returned to crime and worked as an author, screenwriter, actor, and technical advisor until his death in 2005.
Recommendations of essential reading for Bunker’s works are simple: All of his novels are fantastic, so pick any one of them. Little Boy Blue and Animal Factory both the the story of a youngster’s descent into the penal system and their commitment to a life of crime when no other options are apparent. No Beast So Fierce tells the tale of a career criminal’s futile attempt at going straight. My personal favorite, Dog Eat Dog (adapted into a horrendous movie; do not waste your time watching it), tells the tale of three career goons working as a robbery crew against the backdrop of the changing 1990s criminal landscape and the looming Three Strikes Law. All of these books read like a cold shank to the ribs.
Eddie Little
Drawing from his life as a thief, con-man, and lifelong junkie, Eddie Little left behind two outstanding novels. Similar to Bunker, both works are autobiographical fiction, framing his avatar with a cast of far-out and frightening underworld hoods. Another Day in Paradise and its sequel, Steel Toes are both essential reads in this genre. Both tell tales of Bobbie, a teenage speed tweaker who is taken under the wing of an accomplished professional thief and schooled in the ways of burglary, drug pushing, and maintaining a functional heroin habit. Little’s prose, dialogue, and assortment of characters make his works stand out.
Little served several prison sentences for fraud, robbery, and drug offenses and, like the others, began to write while incarcerated. He spent virtually his entire life in the system: incarcerated, on parole, or probation. In addition to his two novels, he penned a semi-regular column, “LA Outlaw,” which ran in the L.A. Weekly. He enjoyed some success and notoriety after being published and worked for We Care, a charitable organization that delivered meals to AIDS patients. His first novel was adapted into a film, directed by Larry Clark. Never able to fully free himself from the claws of heroin addiction, Eddie died alone, at the age of 48, in a Los Angeles motel room. I have read different accounts of the cause of death, including both a heart attack and an overdose.
Dannie Martin
Shipped to Lompoc Federal Penitentiary for bank robbery, Dannie “Red Hog” Martin began to write dispatches about prison life for the tabloid-turned-newspaper San Francisco Chronicle. His articles captured the public’s attention with tales of knife fights, cruel guards, racial strife, and the havoc wreaked by AIDS behind bars. His byline earned him disciplinary action from the authorities, and Martin’s long battle for a prisoner’s right to commit journalism.
Paroled in 1992 after serving 12 of a 30-year sentence, he penned two novels, The Dishwasher and In The Hat. The former tells the story of an ex-con forced back into criminal streets to avenge a rape. The latter is a bizzare story about a white pimp and cock-fighter who runs afoul of the powers-that-be. Both are solid, in my opinion.
Martin was able to remain drug-free and out of trouble for the rest of his life. He continued writing, not always for publication, until his passing in 2013 from heart failure at the age of 74.
Ralph “Sonny” Barger
Often erroneously credited as the founder, Barger was, without a doubt, the most visible member of the notorious Hells Angels Motorcycle Club. A native of Oakland, California, he ran amok on the highways from his late teens on, freewheeling and raising hell, after a short stint in the army. His criminal record stretched back to at least 1957, and he served several stints in both the state and federal systems.
Enjoying a dual life as both an outlaw and pop-culture celebrity, Sonny’s writing career began with the release of his autobiography in 2001. Additional non-fiction works and two novels would follow. Dead in 5 Heartbeats and 6 Chambers, 1 Bullet both deal with— you guessed it— outlaw motorcycle clubs and the chaotic world that can envelope its members. The books are fun reads where the bikers are the good guys and the dirty, stinking rats are the villains. At times, both novels can fall into intrigue and action that starts to seem cheesy until you remember that the author is a man who clearly knows the subject matter at hand. Far be it from me to criticize his credibility. I ain’t gonna go there and get myself rat-packed. No, sir!
Sanyika Shakur, aka “Monster” Kody Scott
Shakur’s Monster: The Autobiography of an L.A. Gang Member absolutely rocked my world upon first reading it as a teenager. My suburban sensibilities were in awe of the ghetto horror show that was his memoir. Joining the Eight Tray Gangster Crips at age 11, Scott committed murder and mayhem with such disregard that the stories would certainly seem exaggerated, had they not mostly been verified by sources both in law enforcement and on the streets. His matter-of-fact prose bites your head right off, despite his annoying habit of misusing words like “overstand.” From his days as a young banger, to achieving OG status as Monster, to finding Black Nationalism in prison and rechristening himself as Sanyika Shakur. Obviously inspired by The Autobiography of Malcolm X, this book is a must-read for all aficionados of crime lit.
Too bad it was all downhill from there. The lack of quality in everything else of his that I have read leads me to suspect that the autobiography was, at least partially, ghostwritten. Case in point, T.H.U.G L.I.F.E, his solo attempt at street fiction. I don’t want to delve too deep into the negative. This is supposed to be about recommended reading, after all. And I do recommend it, solely based on the author himself and his undeniable talent for storytelling. I did find it disappointing and lacking in the knowledge that Shakur seemed so fond of flexing. Remove his name from the cover, and it’s just another attempted Donald Goines clone, only with name-dropped rappers.
His final act was much sadder. In spite of his homage to Black Nationalism, Shakur remained active in gang politics and was rumored to be addicted to crack cocaine. He was found dead in a homeless encampment in San Diego in 2021. The cause of death is listed as a stroke. He was 57 years old. I can’t be alone when I say that I feel an enormous amount of talent was wasted.
Honorable Mention: Iain Levison
He wasn’t a criminal; he was just a working stiff. Either way, he belongs on this list. A transplant to the US from Scotland, Levison writes not of certifiable bad guys, but more of Class A fuck ups. His three novels, Since the Layoffs, How to Rob an Armored Car, and Dog Eats Dog, are a more lighthearted romp on the wrong side of the law. All of them deal with down-on-their-luck worker bees getting in way over their heads when they decide to break bad. This is top-notch stuff.
