This novella by Lawrence Block came out earlier this year. It has a crime in it--maybe--and a mystery of sorts, but it's not really a crime or mystery story. Instead it's a character-driven, compelling portrait of a man who has no real identity other than that which he invents for himself. What's interesting to me is that Block could have used this same concept for a Gold Medal sort of novel or even an Andrew Shaw or Sheldon Lord book 50-some-odd years ago. He's honed it down to its essentials, though, and spun an intriguing tale in the usual smooth, excellent prose. Highly recommended.
An Excerpt from BATTLESUIT BASTARDS
34 minutes ago