As I look forward to the re-release of my first novel CROSSROAD BLUES in two weeks, it's gotten me thinking of Robert Johnson again. Not that R.L. was ever too far from my mind. (He makes a cameo appearance in INFAMOUS next year). But I had the unusual experience of writing about his death and the mystery surrounding it and then several years ago meeting the woman who could provide those answers. It turns out the two grave markers south of Greenwood, Mississippi were both wrong. The legendary blues player was actually buried north of Greenwood at the tiny Zion Church off the Money Road. I met Rosie Eskridge -- whose husband buried Robert Johnson back in '38 -- in 2001 and she spent the afternoon with me and blues researcher, Gayle Dean Wardlow, talking about that day and how one of the 20th Century's icons was sent off. It turns out, only the grave diggers were present and no words spoken. The photos show Miss Rosie pointing out where her husband buried him not far off that highway.

Today's Hollywood can keep all the stickly thin, Botoxed women they want. I'll take the real women of 1960s cinema every time. How can you even compare today's actresses with Raquel, Pamela Tiffin, or the great Claudia Cardinale?

Claudia was almost superhuman in her heat and sexuality. If you need more than the photo above, make sure to check her out in Once Upon A Time in the West, 8 1/2, and the super kitchy Don't Make Waves with Tony Curtis.

There's a Claudia Cardinale fest on TCM tonight. I think the three films represent a nice assortment with her in a seminal western, a Fellini film, and then pure camp. Also highly recommended: The Professionals. A terrific gritty Western where I have no doubt men would risk their lives to save her.

It's easy to fall in love with Grace Kelly in Hitchcock's masterpiece, Rear Window. After all, she is Grace Kelly but maybe even more with her character Lisa Fremont, a woman who brings you dinner from 21 right before she helps you spy on an possible axe murderer.

Lisa may be the perfect girlfriend, even though L.B. Jeffries, Jimmy Stewart, can't see it. L.B., laid up with a broken leg, is too obsessed with peeking through shades and looking down the long camera lens to notice.

We all know the story of how Hitchock made Lisa, L.B., and most of all, the audience, voyeurs in that small Greenwich Village apartment building. The camera rarely leaves the perch of L.B.'s apartment, keeping track of the suicidal spinster, Miss Lonely Hearts, the worn-out newleyweds, a gorgeous dancer, Miss Torso, and a man who seems to have misplaced his nagging, bedridden wife.

One of the great film experience I've had was watching the film for the hundredth time at the old Tampa Theatre for its 50th Anniversary release with my girlfriend and now wife. The relationships in the movie are timeless: a man and a woman, a man and his physical therapist, and, of course, a man and his crazed neighborhood killer.

To see the film in a theater was to make you a resident of Hitch's world.

That same restored version of the film is being shown tonight on TCM at 10. Like any other great work, you pick up something new with every viewing.

The film had a tremendous impact on me as I wrote White Shadow. In fact, I named my narrator L.B. in honor of the film and in a large extent based the character of Eleanor Charles on Grace Kelly.

Over the years, critics have discussed much about the voyeur nature of the filmgoer and how we're all accomplices to L.B. and Lisa. And now in the age of facebook, twitter and the like, Thelma Ritter's terrific line holds up stronger than ever: "We've become a race of peeping toms."

And tonight, as whenever Rear Window plays, I'll be watching.

Starting next week, AMC will begin to air a mini series based on the classic British show, The Prisoner. Jim Cavezial is taking over the role of Number 6 from the show's star and creator, Patrick McGoohan. And although it will be odd to see an American playing the part, I believe Cavezial is a diverse and talented actor, not to mention that Ian McKellan will be playing Number 2 -- just brilliant casting right there.

For those of you who don't know the show, the premise is pretty straighforward. The man who becomes Number Six was a top British spy who was kidnapped shortly after he resigned. When he wakes up from being drugged, he finds himself in a quint seaside village -- The Village -- where he is expected to take part in all the cultrual offerings and by no means offer resistance. Critics continue to cite the show as one of the most brilliant, thought-provoking concepts ever on television.

When it aired in 1968, I think conformity and rebellion was on a lot of people's minds. But I believe the concept is timeless, as the world grows more homogenized and streamlined and where free-thinkers are often the odd man out.

There is little doubt The Prisoner provided a lot of inspiration for J.J. Abrams when he created Lost. McGoohan seeded his show with all types of oddball clues and details: the bicycle, the big balloon, and the mystery of who was Number1.

The show was deep study of society, religion, art and politics and most of all questioning authority. To the point: I loved this show.

The problem happened during the end of its first, and only, season when the network informed McGoohan that the ratings were low and The Prisoner would not be returing. The framework, the brilliant build up, and all those clues and mysteries remained unanswered.

Instead of neatly sewing up his brilliantly conceived show, McGoohan offered a big F.O. to the network heads. The final episode involved nuclear bombs, men in gorilla suits and a climax against the soundtrack of "All You Need is Love."

Number Six battled authority till the end. But it left many devout viewers wishing that there had been much more and those questions answered.

Perhaps now with a series airing on cable -- where we see many shows breaking rules and confomity -- we'll finally get it. Check out The Prisoner's new site with a massive amount of extras (a blog, a graphic novel and previews) or check out full episodes of the original show.

You'll find that I often reference the lineup on Turner Classic Movies on this blog. As a film addict, I can find almost any night on TCM is a pretty good reason to tune in. Tonight is even more so as they feature two of my favorites and biggest influences on my writing. The double feature of North By Northwest and Vertigo really shaped the subject matter of my novels.

The films are being shown to highlight the stellar work of genius graphic designer, Saul Bass. Bass is the man responsible for the title sequence lines in North By Northwest and the crazy maddening swirls that begin Vertigo.

For anyone who doubts the power and depth of a thriller or the depth of Jimmy Stewart, you only need to reference Vertigo. Stewart's descent into obsession and madness is pitch perfect, falling for a girl that resembles a woman he watched die.

Not to mention some brilliant byplay with Barbara Bel Geddes. I remember first seeing this film in the '80s and thinking how hot Miss Ellie used to be.

A small aside, pay close attention in North By Northwest to Cary Grant getting shot at Mount Rushmore (movie fans know this too well.) Watch the little boy in the cafeteria plug his ears before one shot is fired . . .

Even Hitch made little mistakes. Or perhaps left it in for the fun of it.

For the last several weeks, I've been looking at final edits on my eighth novel, INFAMOUS, out this spring from G.P. Putnam's Sons. Without doubt, it's my most ambitious work: a sprawling Depression-era crime epic that weighs in at more than 500 pages. The story of George "Machine Gun" Kelly is a massive road trip, running thousands of miles from Fort Worth to Chicago and Saint Paul to Biloxi. But as I look at the typestet pages for the novel, I'm also working with David Thompson, owner of Busted Flush Press, on bringing back my first published novel, CROSSROAD BLUES.

The book is certainly a smaller, more intimate crime story filled with offbeat characters and the almost surreal world of New Orleans and the Mississippi Delta. I'd also forgotten what a debt it owes to The Maltese Falcon with my series character, Nick Travers, playing a wayward Sam Spade tracking down a priceless artifact.

In the afterword, I talk about how ever much a writer wants to tweak their previous work, you can't. Raymond Chandler called it the "animal gusto" a writer has for their first stories. And even a decade later, I still get mail about that first adventure featuring a Delta blues soundtrack and the ghost of Robert Johnson.

Crossroad Blues is ready for preorder and will be out on bookstore shelves across the U.S. just in time for the Christmas holidays.