Style is the name of the game here. While Quentin Tarantino is revitalizing pulp in cinema, these writers are striving to take the old pulp values and recast them with tight, modern writing. Is it successful? Mostly. There is going to be a big divide in the enjoyment of this debut issue between writers and readers. Writers who are deeply immersed in the craft are going to find three or four fantastic stories, five or six solid reads, and several stories that really haven't finished the editing process. Readers, on the other hand, who can get themselves into the plot and enjoy the ride are going to find a really solid collection of pulp stories.

The theme of the journal is crime, but the execution is remarkably varied. In addition to the expected lowlife, revenge, and heist tales, there are stories about guerilla warfare, rednecks getting even with obnoxious yankees, goth kids with ego problems, boxing, and even one about trying to get a college education through abduction. The writing styles are generally straight forward. Those who are annoyed by overly poetic prose need not fear. With the exception of one story written in a peculiar 19th Century style, these writers do their business without too much waffling.

The first story in the journal is surprising to read, because at first it seems like a straight-forward war story. Stripped down to the bare essentials, the writing gives a brief, but clear picture of guerilla warfare in an unnamed South American country. Caleb Jacobsen-Sive's translation of the Spanish holds up sufficiently. Throughout the description of battle and scenery are little pieces of psychology that really elevate the quality of this piece. At one point the narrator says, "The lieutenant was temporarily silenced by another man's bravery and before he could say anything stupid and give some order we and our families would regret forever, I spoke up." With just one sentence, Madrigal reveals the ineptitude of the leadership and a character who can use practical psychology to ensure his survival. That's tight writing. The highlight of the story, though, was his description of the evolution of the narrator from a scared boy into a hunter for whom "each step was almost sexual in its pleasure." For those who suspect that the editors may have broken their statement of purpose: don't worry. The crime element is there, it's just subtle. That's a good thing.

The story that really dominates this journal for me is "Nasty Jay." Cortright McMeel masterfully instills raw violence just under the surface of the story. He builds the piece upon a foundation of alcohol, mythology, and boxing wisdom. His use of this technique early on is extremely effective, like putting a punch in the reader's fist and making them read the rest of the story just itching to use it. Scandinavian folklore is scattered throughout the narrative, but instead of sounding trendy or kitschy, McMeel manages to draw a feeling largeness and importance out of what is essentially crime pulp. This is a sign of a writer who knows his craft.

J.D. Rhoades' "Spadework" is another story that will leave you smiling malevolently. At just four-and-a-half pages, this one is a short, sweet revenge story. It's the kind of fiction that you want to fold up and keep in your pocket for when you're stuck without something to read on the train or in a waiting room.

Another cool feature of the journal is the classic reprint section. In this debut issue, they republish David Goodis' "The Professional Man" with a brief author spotlight for the uninitiated. It's a well-paced underworld story told in a classic film-grain third person voice. Despite being the oldest story in the journal, it's placed last in the lineup. When you read it and arrive the last line, though, you'll understand why. It's the perfect ending to a solid collection of dark tales.

So, is the journal worth the twelve bucks it will run you? As far as I'm concerned, the quality density is about on par with any of the major academic literary journals but with the added bonus of gritty alleyways and slit throats, hookers and hitmen. Writers who buy this book will find both examples of excellence and lessons in trimming flabby prose. Readers will appreciate 261 pages of solid pulp. That said, there is the future to consider as well. If Murdaland flourishes, everyone will benefit. It's a hell of a debut issue, and when the next installment hits the shelves, I'll have my money ready.