Duane Swierczinski has quietly, humbly put together a hell of a career in modern crime fiction. Despite (or thanks to) a tongue-twister surname that always requires concentration to spell out, he’s navigated his way through multiple genres and fiction/nonfiction formats to become a critically celebrated fan favorite, from his early down-and-dirty books such as The Wheelman and The Blonde, to his mid-career Charlie Hardie series and interactive experiments, to his massive successes in the comics industry, to his hardcover Mulholland novels, which include Canary, Revolver, and his latest California Bear. (In stores now!) Heralded as an author who seems to be simply having a fantastic time banging away at his typewriter (donut and kielbasa poised on a plate to his left), Swierczynski churns out robust, hilarious prose in service of twisty, edge-of-the-seat tales.
The past few years have been personally challenging for Swierczynski. He lost his daughter Evie to acute myeloid leukemia in 2018 and has understandably waded through profound grief to find his way back into his unique groove. During a prolonged period in which he, his family, and his wider readership community have honored Evie’s legacy with the Evelyn Swierczynski Foundation—which supports Children’s Hospital Los Angeles through book drives and blood/bone marrow donation—Swierczynski kept the idea factory churning. In January 2024, Mulholland Books released California Bear (read my review here), which is partially inspired by his daughter Evie. In fact, her fictional avatar is a major character. In a way, Evie has guided her father back to us.
I recently had the opportunity to talk to Swierczynski at length about his early days, his career, his move from Philadelphia to Los Angeles, and the way his bibliography has maneuvered toward California Bear. We also spoke about the sensitive subject of losing Evie and how that factored into the creation of the new book. Read on for the interview!
Jason Bovberg: Curious how you got your start in writing.
Duane Swierczynski: I started out as a fact-checker at Philadelphia Magazine, and eventually became a staff writer. From there, my career was like a boomerang: I left Philadelphia Magazine for Men’s Health, followed by Details … only to return to Men’s Health for another stint, and finally Philadelphia Magazine again before I began teaching as an adjunct at my alma matter. I was seriously beginning to worry that I would soon return to high school, then grade school, then the womb.
Jason Bovberg: So your origins are in journalism. Mine, too. How do you think that shaped your style?
Duane Swierczynski: Journalism taught me how to write to order—a certain style, word length, and so on. It also taught me how to pitch ideas to either my editors (when I was a writer), or my writers (when I was an editor) … a skill that would very much come in handy later. But most of all, it taught me the value of research and reporting, even when writing fiction. Last year, I spent an entire day researching if it was possible to take tar from the La Brea Tar Pits and use it to power a gasoline engine. (Short answer: Yes, but with a lot of refinement.) It ended up being a throwaway detail, but damn was it fun to report that out.
Jason Bovberg: Your first books were non-fiction titles such as This Here’s a Stick-Up: The Big Bad Book of American Bank Robbery and The Big Book o’ Beer, but how did those happen? Do you see those books as your “foot in the door”?
Duane Swierczynski: Those first nonfiction books, weirdly, grew out of my efforts to sell my first novel Secret Dead Men. Some editors liked it, but they didn’t know where bookstores would shelve it. Pivoting, my agent thought I should lean on my magazine experience and pitch a nonfiction book. Not something as fancy as narrative nonfiction or anything that would require years of research. Instead, they were quick and dirty “roundup”-style books, where I would dive down a rabbit hole (bank robberies, beer) and emerge three or so months later with a manuscript in my jaws.
Jason Bovberg: Your fiction debut was the small-press edition of Secret Dead Men, in association with Allan Guthrie. How did this connection and deal come about?
Duane Swierczynski: I met Al Guthrie via his brilliant (and much missed) website, Noir Originals. The deal was simple: He’d post a piece of your fiction, but you had to agree to contribute a nonfiction piece to the site. What a racket, right? But that became the online meeting hub for a lot of us noir nerds trying to get a writing career going. Al and I hit it off (we’re a similar kind of weird) and started trading works-in-progress. One of those works was my unpublished novel, Secret Dead Men, which Al thought would be perfect for the new line of novels he’d been hired to edit: Point Blank Press. I told you he was weird.
Jason Bovberg: Secret Dead Men is a glorious cross-genre oddity, as you suggested, and yet it’s got the seeds of your love for crime fiction. It’s also got elements of horror and your distinctly humorous style. It feels like a first-time novelist’s playground—going for broke. We’ve spoken before about your love for horror fiction when you were growing up. Did Secret Dead Men function as a turning point where your career could have gone in one of two directions—crime or horror/supernatural?
Duane Swierczynski: First, thank you for those very kind words. I want to steal “a glorious cross-genre oddity” for a blurb! And this is an excellent question. Because when Secret Dead Men didn’t sell (when we were shopping it back in 1999), I very much decided to focus on one genre—crime—for the next novel. There’s a good chance that if it had sold back then, the next few books would have been prequels and sequels. (I had at least a half-dozen in mind, and still do.) But I don’t think it’s as simple as saying, “Okay, I’m a horror/supernatural guy now.” All of the genres tend to bleed into each other in my mind, which is why Severance Package is my version of a slasher (while still being, ostensibly, a mainstream “thriller”) and Expiration Date is both a murder mystery and a time travel story. Hell, even Revolver has a supernatural moment tucked away at the end. What’s important to me is not writing the same book twice, which is why I usually shy away from series. My Charlie Hardie books were an attempt to write an anti-series… which may explain why books 2 and 3 sort of flopped.
Jason Bovberg: How do you look back on Secret Dead Men as your entrance into the genre?
Duane Swierczynski: I’m quite literally looking back on it right now! Titan Books will be reprinting Secret Dead Men (which was indeed my first novel) this fall in a lightly revised edition. It’ll be nice to have it in the world again.
Jason Bovberg: All this being said, there’s no denying that you’ve become known as a crime novelist. The Wheelman is where I joined the Swierczynski train. You harnessed a lightning bolt with that one. What were the inspirations behind that book’s subject matter and tone? Some Richard Stark in there, for sure!
Duane Swierczynski: Oh, there’s absolutely a lot of Richard Stark in The Wheelman (as well as Dan J. Marlowe and Elmore Leonard and Fredric Brown). The idea spun directly out of my introduction to This Here’s a Stick-Up, which was my history of American bank robbery. I decided to case my own bank, the former Wachovia at 17th and Market in downtown Philly, and plot a getaway route. And it was GOOD. So good, I couldn’t get it out of my mind, so I decided to have a crew of Stark-ish stick-up guys rob the joint. The rest of the novel was pretty much improvised from that one scene. I don’t know if it was a lightning bolt, but it was great fun. I do have a sort-of sequel in the works, set 20 years later. Only one of the characters from The Wheelman returns … but I won’t say who.
Jason Bovberg: How did the contract with St. Martin’s and the hardcover publication of The Wheelman come about?
Duane Swierczynski: This one sold shockingly fast. Only a few weeks after submitting it, Marc Resnick at St. Martin’s made an offer. I remember vividly where I was when the call came in: walking through the quad of La Salle University, where I was teaching journalism as an adjunct. I couldn’t believe it was real. And then I took the bus home and celebrated with the family.
Jason Bovberg: My impression is whereas The Wheelman punched your ticket, it was The Blonde that solidified your standing in the genre. Was that the breakout book? I’d love for you to reminisce about how the double-punch of these two books launched your career.
Duane Swierczynski: I don’t know if The Blonde was my breakout. If anything, I feel like the next one made a little more noise. But I guess The Blonde demonstrated that I wasn’t just a one-and-done kind of writer, you know? By the time I was writing that one, I was working full-time as the editor of the Philadelphia City Paper, so I would write for a couple of hours after the rest of the family had gone to bed. I’d turn in after midnight, only to rise again at 6 a.m. and then take a bus and the Frankford El down to the newspaper. (This may explain why the El is featured so prominently in the story.) The coolest thing about The Blonde was that it attracted my first real interested from Hollywood: Actress Michelle Monaghan optioned the novel for her good friend actor/screenwriter Paul Leyden to adapt. Paul and I got absolutely polluted one night in Center City (never go drink-for-drink with a handsome Australian), which kicked off a lifelong friendship. Alas, the movie never happened, but I learned quite a bit about the industry.
Jason Bovberg: The Blonde is a friggin’ blast. A riotous thriller. What’s your philosophy about pulp novels that are just plain balls-to-the-wall fun?
Duane Swierczynski: I am absolutely in favor of them! It’s probably easy to forget that fast-moving pulp novels (from Gold Medal, Lion, Bantam and the like) were the 1950s equivalent of bingeing a streaming show. Even better than streaming—the experience only cost a quarter, and there were zero bottle episodes or filler. As far as my own stuff goes, I think it’s part desire to never bore the reader, part journalism training (“don’t bury the lede”), but also … I’ll admit to being a shameless entertainer. I want people to think my work is fun, above all else. I want to give everyone who’s taking the time to read one of my books (or stories, or comics or whatever) to have a great time. Anything else is a bonus.
Jason Bovberg: Around the time of The Blonde is when your comics career also began, correct? Is that something you sought out, or did they seek you out?
Duane Swierczynski: My career in comics is all thanks to Ed Brubaker. I loved his (then new) Criminal series and wrote him a fan email. As it turned out, he had just picked up The Blonde and dug it. A short while later, Ed introduced me to his Marvel editors, Warren Simons and Axel Alonso, and after a few tryout issues (back then they’d assign all the new tough guy writers Wolverine and Punisher stories), I was off and running. My work with Marvel is what gave me the financial freedom to give up my job at the newspaper.
Jason Bovberg: Comics seem a natural fit. Were you a comics nerd growing up?
Duane Swierczynski: Huge comics nerd … when I could afford them. My grandmother would occasionally give me dollar, which I would promptly spend at the newsstand around the corner on the latest issue of Amazing Spider-Man and a candy bar. I also inherited a box full of my uncle’s Silver Age DC comics at one point, which were a funky, weird treat. But my very first comic was a Werewolf By Night book-and-record set, which blew my young mind. The gory art! The sound! The bullets! The fur! This was huge for me.
Jason Bovberg: Did a “comics sensibility” influence the writing of your next book, Severance Package, whether in tone or structure or pacing? It’s certainly reflected in the cover art!
Duane Swierczynski: I don’t think comics were a huge influence when I was writing Severance Package (in fact, I think the manuscript was already written before I wrote my first script for Marvel). But they were a huge influence when it came to designing and marketing the novel. My editor Marc Resnick was a fellow comics dork—in fact, I still meet up with him nearly every year at San Diego Comic Con—and wanted to give the design something special. So he hired the wildly talented Dennis Calero to draw eight black-and-white spot illustrations. And then he hired legendary Tomm Coker to draw the wraparound cover! The idea was to try to lure comics fans into the novel world, and vice versa. St. Martin’s and Marvel even agreed on an ad trade to cross-promote the novel, as well as the comics I was writing.
Jason Bovberg: So did it work? I remember Moon Knight, Punisher, and Cable hitting comic shops at this time. Did those bring a new audience to your prose?
Duane Swierczynski: Maybe it’s just me, but when Severance Package came out, my work for Marvel was getting some attention, too, so yeah, it felt like I had more eyes on my work. There was also a splashy movie deal announcement (Lionsgate optioned the novel and hired me to co-write with a director). I had also recently quit my day job as editor-in-chief of the Philadelphia City Paper, so I had much more time to devote to my fiction/comics career. Like I said, though … maybe that’s just all in my head.
Jason Bovberg: You’ve said the original Expiration Date concept was as a magazine serial. I love serialized fiction (a la King’s The Green Mile), and it seems that idea suits your style well. As a writer, were you invigorated by the challenge of writing “live,” so to speak? That is, publishing early chapters before you’ve even written later ones?
Duane Swierczynski: I wish that had been the case! I believe the plan was to have all of the installments written before the first one appeared … but after writing a few of them, the New York Times Magazine decided to phase out the fiction serial. I was crushed. But I do love the idea of that kind of literary high-wire act, and maybe I’ll try something similar one day.
Jason Bovberg: Did Expiration Date turn into a different book from what you imagined?
Duane Swierczynski: Expiration Date turned out more or less the way I envisioned it, the only difference being that I was able to break up the book into 12 chapters or so (like a grandfather clock, was the idea) as opposed to the 10 installments the New York Times Magazine had assigned. By that time, thanks to my comic book work, I was accustomed to fitting a certain amount of story into a certain amount of space, so it wasn’t too much of a hardship.
Jason Bovberg: You mentioned your Charlie Hardie series (Fun & Games, Hell & Gone, and Point & Shoot), and that books 2 and 3 didn’t do as well as the first. Nevertheless, these would represent the start of a very fruitful relationship with Mulholland Books. Was this a three-book deal from the start?
Duane Swierczynski: Yep, a three-book deal, with the idea that all three books would appear within 18 months. But it ended up being one book a year, which was partly my fault. I had written a check my brain couldn’t cash.
Jason Bovberg: Did you enjoy the experience of writing the Hardie series as a whole?
Duane Swierczynski: The Hardie books were great fun right up until they weren’t. I’m not sure enough time has passed for the tell-all on what went wrong with that series. Maybe I’ll save that for the memoir I write just before I croak!
Duane Swierczynski: The Quirk interactive mysteries were all thanks to my longtime editor Jason Rekulak (now himself a novelist!). We did the cocktail and beer books together, and when I started publishing fiction, he reached out to see if I’d like to tackle a Sherlock Holmes story he had in mind. Actually, not so much a story as a concept: a long-form mystery with clues (letters, timetables, matchbooks, etc.) that you could pull out of little envelopes in the book itself. I absolutely loved the idea and had a blast cobbling together a proper mystery. After Crimes was published, DC Comics approached, wanting to do something similar with Batman. How could I possibly refuse?
Jason Bovberg: So we’ve come to your first Mullholland hardcover: Canary. I’d love to hear about the genesis of this one: Did you conceive it as the beginning of a new series or envision it as a standalone? It’s a fun page-turner with a great multi-perspective narration. What are your thoughts about it?
Duane Swierczynski: The earliest idea behind Canary was actually a mob story: I’d read about a Philly gangster who had taken an insane number of bullets during an attempted hit, yet somehow lived to tell the tale. (And that story is sort of still in there.) But soon came the idea of a brilliant college kid who somehow becomes a snitch for the Philly PD, and that set my imagination on fire. I just went back and looked at my earliest notes for this story and was surprised to learn this was originally titled Bruiser, after the gangster. After I finished the first draft, I did have sequels in mind … but didn’t want to tackle them right away. The idea was that the novel’s hero, Sarie, would age in real time, and we’d jump in for a visit whenever she found herself in a new predicament.
Jason Bovberg: A few of your novels, like Canary, use multiple perspectives (including your latest!). I’m a huge proponent of shifting POVs when the technique is done right. I’d love to hear your thoughts about the use of “head hopping” to enhance suspense.
Duane Swierczynski: I like that—“head hopping”! To me, it’s like using camera angles in a movie. You spend a little time from one POV, then just when things reach a certain intensity, you jump into someone else’s POV. It keeps the story humming along and paints a fuller picture. I also think it’s important to know which POVs to avoid: For instance, you won’t want to crawl inside your killer’s head necessarily if he’s going to spoil all of the surprises. With Canary, I did a weird version of this, where it was a blend of first-person and third-person entries. That may have annoyed some readers, but it felt true to the story.
Jason Bovberg: Revolver followed Canary pretty quickly, and yet it seems to be your most ambitious novel, considering its historical elements and its separate timelines. What was it like to tackle a historical crime novel—a first for you, if I’m not mistaken? Were you encouraged by its reception?
Duane Swierczynski: Revolver was, at the time, the most ambitious thing I’d ever attempted, inspired by a murder in my own extended family. It was also a reaction to the first season of True Detective, which had a brilliant structural concept—telling the same story in two different timelines. But I was disappointed when one of the timelines collapsed by episode, like, five or something. That felt like a missed opportunity. So with Revolver, I wanted to do True Detective one better and follow a story along THREE different timelines … and most importantly, pay them all off at the very end like a string of firecrackers. As for its reception, I don’t know. It was nominated for a Hammett Prize and came very (very) close to being made into a TV series. (It still might, actually.) But it didn’t sell all that well, and has yet to see a paperback, which is a big disappointment.
Jason Bovberg: You have a number of collaborations with James Patterson, both in print and audio (let’s see if I can gather them all: The House Husband, The Shut-In, Stingrays, Unbelievably Boring Bart, The Palm Beach Murders, Lion & Lamb). In the past, I’ve asked you about how the collaboration works. Patterson essentially hands you a fleshed-out idea/outline, and you take it from there? I imagine the arrangement is very much mutually beneficial, perhaps exposing you to a larger audience?
Duane Swierczynski: That’s just about right … though “Stingrays” was collected in The Palm Beach Murders; I also co-wrote a novella called “3 Days to Live” that was included in a collection by the same name. And there’s also the two Audible Originals we’ve written: The Guilty and Zero Tolerance. (And there’s a third in the works.) As for outlines … that’s how it’s worked for longer projects, but the novellas have varied. Sometimes we talk and I generate an outline; sometimes the opposite. And yeah, I really love working with Jim. We agree on a fundamental principle of storytelling: Don’t waste the reader’s time. I’ve especially loved working on the Audible Originals with him, because it requires flexing a very different set of storytelling muscles. All you have to work with is dialogue, sound effects, maybe a little music. In a lot of ways, it’s the opposite of comic book storytelling.
Jason Bovberg: I’ve really enjoyed the graphic novels you’ve written in partnership with John Carpenter and Sandy King Carpenter (Storm King Comics): Redhead and Civilians. Telling longer, self-contained graphic stories like these must have been a dream come true. Are you planning more?
Duane Swierczynski: Oh yeah! I have an original graphic novel, with art by the insanely talented Andrea Mutti, appearing … maybe later this year? I can’t say much about it before it’s officially announced, but I’m very proud of the story … which appears to be supernatural, but maybe isn’t it? Just like real life.
Jason Bovberg: I gather you had a lot of involvement in the production and publication of your collection of short stories, Lush and Other Tales of Boozy Mayhem. What do you love about the short story? Oh, and I must say I enjoyed your story notes. Always nice to get a peek behind the curtain.
Duane Swierczynski: I’m very proud of that collection, which was very much a collaboration between myself and publisher John Scoleri, who couldn’t have been more supportive (mostly of my crazy ideas). The wraparound cover art is by Philly artist Heather Vaughan — I saw her work and knew instantly she’d get the very weird vibe of this collection. The book-end stories (“Hilly Palmer’s Last Case” and “Pinkerton”) are set in the same dive bar (McGlinchey’s) roughly 20 years apart, and the cover is a glimpse inside that bar on a particularly rough night. I do love the short story form and want to write more of them over the next few years. Hopefully, it won’t be 30 years before the second collection! And thanks for the kind words about the story notes. I’m a huge fan of them, going back to Stephen King’s notes for Night Shift. Like you, I can’t resist a peek behind the curtain.
Duane Swierczynski: There were three sources of inspiration, the first being a Los Angeles Times piece about a retired cop who dedicated himself to freeing wrongfully convicted inmates. I wondered what that first beer together must feel like. And then, because I’m a little twisted in the head, I thought to myself: What if the released con was actually guilty? And the cop knew it? The second inspiration was Michelle McNamara’s I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, which detailed her search for the Golden State Killer. How weird would it be to learn that the grandpa-looking guy next door was responsible for some heinous crimes? And while those two ideas were knocking around my skull, my daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. During the long hours in her hospital room, I started playing around with a comedic crime novel where an ex-cop convinces an ex-con to blackmail an ex-serial killer. This was meant to be an escape from the grim reality in that hospital room, but I eventually incorporated that into the story, too.
Jason Bovberg: Now, I’m a loyal Swierczynski reader, as you can probably tell, and I (like a lot of your fans) have followed you—and laughed with you, lived with you—on social media for years. That’s the age we live in, when relationships are magnified online. I remember your announcement about the loss of Evie as if it were yesterday—an awful gut punch. It felt like a personal loss. The empathy was huge. And it was with that sense of empathy that I read California Bear, which, very significantly, stars a young woman suffering from leukemia and its treatments. Was it a difficult decision to write about something so personally raw, or did you see it as an opportunity to recapture something vital? Because it’s both heart-rending and joyous to read this aspect of the novel.
Duane Swierczynski: Thank you for that, Jason. The kindness and support of friends like you saw us through the darkest days after we lost Evie. And for a long while, I thought I’d never finish this novel. I mean, how could I? But somewhere in early 2020, I realized that this novel, for better or worse, was a connection to my daughter that I was sorely missing. Part of her humor and spirit were in these pages … and there was more story to tell. I have to believe she wanted me to finish this. Otherwise, I would have shelved it forever.
Jason Bovberg: A big part of that community support led to the creation of the Evelyn Swierczynski Foundation, just an incredible accomplishment. When you were conceiving California Bear, in particular the Girl Detective character, was there an element of “writing for that community”? An acknowledgment that Evie’s passing, in a way, affected your wider family, your readership, and writing about this section of your life was a way to embrace not only her but them?
Duane Swierczynski: Actually, I wanted the opposite. I hope that anyone who reads California Bear can enjoy it on its own, with no backstory required. That said, this novel was very much about me trying to grapple with what had happened. I’m not sure I’ll ever write a memoir about those days—right now, the idea strikes me as way too painful. But writing about it at arm’s length, with fictional avatars, felt right to me.
Jason Bovberg: You’ve mentioned that California Bear could be the first in a series. In fact, I believe you’re working on the sequel. At this point, what can you tell us about your thoughts on these characters going forward?
Duane Swierczynski: I try to talk as little as possible about works-in-progress, but I do see California Bear as the first in a trilogy. There were little plot seeds planted that will (hopefully) bloom in future books. One thing is for sure: the Girl Detective will never die. I don’t get to run this universe we share, but I’m absolutely in charge of my fictional one.
Jason Bovberg: Shifting gears with one more California Bear question … What’s your favorite L.A. donut?
Duane Swierczynski: You’re the first person to ask that. But I won’t tell.
Jason Bovberg: Your Philly origins and upbringing are well documented and reflected in your fiction. When you consider Philly today, how do you think it shaped you (and continues to shape you)?
Duane Swierczynski: I’ve always said that Philly is where my imagination went to play. But that was sort of by default: I didn’t travel much when I was younger, so the city was all I knew. Someone sets you down in a certain sandbox, you have choice but to play in that sandbox. That said, I am grateful that Philly was my sandbox for those formative years. I came of age in Catholic grade schools and dive bars, walking past a porno theater and crack dealers on my way to church. The perfect early education for a crime writer! Truth is, I have never felt like an authentic “Philadelphian” (I’m not an Eagles fan; I never had the accent). If anything, I’m an alien who happened to be born there, and really enjoyed observing actual Philadelphians. Still do.
Jason Bovberg: Was it difficult to uproot yourself and relocate to Los Angeles? Was that decision all professional, or were there personal/experiential considerations?
Duane Swierczynski: The most difficult part of moving was the cross-country drive: one mini-van, one U-Haul, two teenagers, one nervous dog, two terrified cats. (I’m still shocked we made it out of the desert.) The move was definitely part professional — for years all I heard was, if you want to work in Hollywood, you have to live near Hollywood. But I also genuinely love this crazy town, and always have since I first visited back in 1998. Fortunately, I had a supportive family who were willing to give it a try.
Jason Bovberg: Your adoptive town of Los Angeles seems to suit you well, and I can tell you love to explore it. What have you found to be its greatest characteristics?
Duane Swierczynski: To pick up my earlier analogy: L.A. is a really big sandbox! Thrillingly so. There are something like 88 different towns and cities and municipalities all stitched together, each with its own history and customs and culture. I’m always baffled when someone says they can’t stand L.A. because it’s all the same concrete wasteland, which makes me think they didn’t explore this place very much. I wouldn’t even pretend to know the characteristics of L.A. as a whole; it’s too epic. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life (happily) trying to figure this place out. For each book or story (or comic) I set here, I do a lot of location scouting … which of course, is just an excuse to drop down another L.A. rabbit hole.
Jason Bovberg: Many prominent crime writers are associated strongly with a particular town (Hammett’s San Francisco, Chandler’s Los Angeles, Westlake/Stark’s New York City, Burke’s New Orleans, etc.). You’re on your way to identifying with two! I see California Bear as you staking out some territory in L.A. How does it feel to join the likes of Chandler, not to mention Ellroy and Connelly?
Duane Swierczynski: I think L.A. is big enough for all of us, and I don’t walk the same beat as Chandler, Ellroy or Connelly (or Phillips or Hirahara or Mosley, for that matter). I like how Elmore Leonard did it. He will forever be linked with Detroit, but he’s also equally known for his Florida novels, as well as his westerns and other stories set all the hell over the place. That’s what I aspire to.
Jason Bovberg: Well, I think we’ve touched on many aspects of the Swiercziverse! Thanks for the time and effort! We’ll be looking out for the next project.
Duane Swierczynski: We’ve covered so much! Thank you for these excellent questions, Jason. This has felt like a guided tour of my career, right up until this afternoon.