Word: macdonaldization
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...were similar cries of pain as huge price gyrations roiled trading in everything from metals and corporate bonds to livestock and even futures contracts for wheat and soybeans. In his office just off Chicago's LaSalle Street, the heart of the Windy City's financial district, Bond Trader Colin MacDonald paused long enough from juggling the phones on his Government securities desk to complain to a reporter that "the market's in a shambles. Before this is over, there'll be enough resignations from wiped-out traders to fill the Yellow Pages...
...miracle fabrics, deodorants, checklists, time payments, political parties, lending libraries, television, actresses, Junior Chambers of Commerce, pageants, progress and manifest destiny." Hence his license to purge iniquity. Unlike most of his fictional colleagues, the creaky crusader visibly ages. "He grows older at about one-third the natural rate," says MacDonald, who hovers above 60. "Otherwise, I could be senile before I'd finished with him." Trav is now about...
There are two more McGees in the works on the author's blue IBM Selectric, which he totes between a house in Florida and a summer fishing camp on a lake in New York's Adirondacks. MacDonald's wife, Dorothy Prentiss, is an artist. He has long since shed any resentment against the other Macdonald, that more critically esteemed thriller writer whose real name is not John Ross Macdonald at all but Kenneth Millar. ("At least," allows John D., "the guy is literate, even if he does keep hitting the same barrel.") The real MacDonald...
...MacDonald is one of the few crime writers since Arthur Conan Doyle to rate a regular newsletter for fans (JDM Bibliophile is published twice yearly at the Uni versity of Southern Florida); he is also one of the American authors to have won France's coveted Grand Prix de Litterature Policiere. But critics and scholars have lots of time to catch up. MacDonald's mind still brims with mayhem for McGee. And there are lots of colors to go. "Let's see," says John D., sitting down to work. "There's ocher, ultramarine, peach, beige, cherry...
...Every McGee novel, from the first, The Deep Blue Goodbye (1964), has had a hue in its title. MacDonald explains that this is a mnemonic device to help readers avoid buying the same book twice, an all too familiar experience for thriller addicts...