That’s How I Roll

After pleading guilty to a series of homicides, Esau Till sits on death row, writing his life story. But his memoir is his one last chance to protect his brother. And, when it comes to his baby brother, Esau Till is a man without boundaries. When the genetic cards were dealt, Esau drew a genius IQ – and a crippled body. His brother Tory drew a slow mind – and almost superhuman strength. Very early on, Esau learned that the only way to guarantee his brother’s safety was to make himself indispensable, so he became the top hired killer for both rival local mobs. As the state gets ready to take his life, Esau plots going all-in on the last hand he will ever play.

“Reading Andrew Vachss is similar to listening to Ray Wylie Hubbard fused with Nick Cave. It’s brutal, grindhouse and poetic. Laying an atmosphere of the down trodden, harmed and misshapen. … Vachss is a writer to admire, one that does not shun from showing a world with all of its ugly flaws. Think of Hubert Selby Jr. on steroids, then throw in a fifty pound sledge, a machete, some brick walls and a muscle car for good measure.”
—Frank Bill, Litreactor

“One can count on Vachss being grim whether writing one of his Burke novels (Another Life, etc.) or a stand-alone like The Weight, but this first-person story, which narrator Esau Till makes clear is neither apology nor confession, is grimmer than most. From death row, Esau, who’s crippled by spina bifida, recounts a horrific childhood of parental abuse. He finds purpose in protecting his strapping little brother, Tory-boy, whose only defect is being a little “slow.” Esau later becomes a bomb maker and assassin, carving out a precariously balanced life plying his deadly trade for both of the two crime bosses who share his unnamed community. When the authorities finally catch up with him, Esau continues to plan to protect Tory-boy whether Esau is dead or alive by cleverly playing both sides of the law. Crafty, strong-willed Esau combines courtly manners, deadly paybacks, and ruthless singularity of purpose in this chilling tour de force.”
—Publisher’s Weekly

“HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: In his latest stand-alone, Vachss, master of hard-boiled fiction, delivers one of his grimmest novels yet.”
—Wes Lukowsky, Booklist

“For those who like their hard-boiled fiction really hard, X-rated (as we used to say) and for grown-ups only, then your main man is Andrew Vachss; and his new novel, That’s How I Roll, is published by Pantheon in America in March. This is classic, gritty Vachss, who writes prose you can strike a match on, as he proved in his 18-book ‘Burke’ series which not only created its own dystopian universe of urban savagery, but also showed that Vachss has a crime-writing ‘voice’ as distinct—and as important—as those of James Ellroy, George V. Higgins and Elmore Leonard. In That’s How I Roll he gives that voice to Esau Till, a top line assassin for hire who sits on Death Row awaiting the lethal injection and writing his life story. But Esau’s not providing a death-cell confession; he’s intent on looking after his only family, his brother, even after he’s gone.”
——Mike Ripley, Shots

“In his newest whodunit, Vachss (The Weight, 2010, etc.) combines his trademark black humor with his longstanding concern for children and their well-being. The result is a strikingly original character named Esau Till, born with a “spine thing” that has kept him from standing on his own for all the 40-plus years of his life. Esau has a genius IQ and a sharp sense of justice, if a vigilante one; no being bullied on the schoolyard or in life for him. Indeed, he has a skill that is very much in demand in the rough redneck quarters in which he moves—he makes a mean bomb. What keeps Esau motivated on this unforgiving planet is his younger brother Tory-boy, Lennie to his George, who is beyond simpleminded and is constantly in some mischief or another—dangerously involving the local neo-Nazi contingent at one point. Esau and Tory descend from a fellow known locally as the Beast, who made a sport of incest and murder until receiving his comeuppance, and they’re not what you might call model citizens. Even though Esau does a fine job of clearing the streets of criminals, if often on behalf of other criminals, he’s also worked his way through the catalog of civil offenses and felonies. For his trouble, we find Esau in the pen awaiting the final needle, telling his tale to pass the time. Vachss structures his novel as a sort of loose, episodic confessional that builds the story stone by stone, strewing the landscape with bodies (“Before he could open his mouth to ask a question, I shot him in the face”) and dispensing folksy wisdom (“If a man walks into a liquor store after dark, it’s either because he’s got money…or because he doesn’t”). The outlook is insistently bleak: Esau and Tory were born into suffering and will go out that way, too, sharing some of the wealth as they wander through the world. A smart, cynical glimpse into the human condition—and into lives no one should envy.”
—Kirkus