Meet B.C. Bell: The Man Behind the Mask
If you’ve spent any time in the “New Pulp” universe, you’ve likely stumbled upon Tales of the Bagman, a gritty, Depression-era vigilante saga set in 1930s Chicago. Its creator, B.C. Bell has written four novels and more than a dozen pulp novellas that keep the genre’s golden-age heart beating.
Born in Texas in 1962 and now based in the U.S., Bell’s voice is equal parts noir, humor, and hard-won honesty. He calls himself a “pulp writer by accident“, but fans know better. His blend of crime, horror, and retro adventure has earned cult recognition, and, as his recent interview with WriteStats reveals, a surprisingly philosophical depth.
“I used to read pulp reprint paperbacks when I was a kid,” he told us. “A gaming company was going to publish pulp masked-avenger stories. I wrote one, the magazine came out, the editor said, ‘Add more stories and we’ll make it a novel in short-story form.’ Bam, Tales of the Bagman. I’m a pulp writer.”
The Origins of a Pulp Mindset
Bell’s path started with the old masters:
“Jack London and Dashiell Hammett. … But the real heroes to me were the great genre writers of the first half of the 20th century. They were forced to produce, churned out reams of paper, and still managed to pay the rent.”
He’s quick to note how easily those foundational names vanish from modern reading lists, something he’s determined to fix.
That devotion to forgotten craft fuels his distinct style: pulpy plots laced with psychological realism. His background in psychology surfaces in Bipolar Express, a novel he calls “a little bit of an underground hit.”
Writing Through Pain, And Finding Joy
Few stories illustrate creative resilience better than Bell’s.
“I broke the C7 part of my spine seven years ago,” he said. “Even then, I kept writing. … I try to consider it play. I’m as much a pantser as a plotter … If you look at it as work too much, it stops being fun.”
That balance between discipline and discovery defines his process, what he jokingly calls “the ass-in-chair rule.”
“Once your ass is in the chair, don’t stop writing until you’re finished,“ he advised. “Life always interferes with real work. It just does.”
Tools, Tech, and a Touch of Rebellion
Unlike many modern authors who swear by specialized software, Bell stays old-school:
“I’ve tried the three major writing programs … but they all slow me down. All that plotting and filing is already in my head.”
He drafts by instinct, trusting his characters to lead the plot, a reminder that technology should serve the story, not smother it.
That mindset also shapes his strong stance against AI in publishing:
“AI is zeros and ones and that’s all the meaning those words have. It’s boring, repetitive, and self-interested. … AI is for people who can’t write and don’t read.”
He even discovered that two of his books were used to train AI models without permission, a violation he describes with pulp-worthy fury.
💼 Publishing, Promotion, and the Pulp Economy
Bell’s publishing path bridges small presses and self-publishing, a hybrid model many emerging authors are considering.
“Most of my stuff has gone through publishers, but Bipolar Express was too out there, so I went with Smashwords. Amazon adds so much for branding and easy sales, I had to go that route.”
He praises his small-press partners, Airship 27 and Pro Se Press, for support, but notes the reality: authors still have to do much of their own promotion.
“Both my publishers are small presses, so you have to do a lot of your own promotion, but there’s a lot of small favors they can do that aren’t so small.”
That hybrid path mirrors the data we explored in our earlier feature, Hybrid Publishing vs Self-Publishing: Which Path Is Right for You?, where we found that hybrid authors tend to earn 30-50% more than self-only peers, largely due to shared resources and audience cross-pollination. Bell’s story proves the point: a well-managed blend of independence and collaboration can sustain a niche career.
Words, Music, and Making a Living (or Not)
For Bell, writing isn’t a full-time job, and he’s fine with that.
“I was taught you can make a killing, but you can’t earn a living. … Some tales pay rent, others just buy coffee.“
Between gigs as a “bluespunk musician”, fiction deadlines, and local readings in Chicago, he’s built a lifestyle that prioritizes creativity over convention.
On Mental Health and Creative Honesty
Bell’s candor about mental health runs through his answers. He’s open about depression and how it shaped his storytelling:
“When I first started writing I suffered from major depression, so the story was going to be angry or surprisingly comic. … That sucked. Still, the biggest problem is the ass-in-chair rule.”
That blunt realism gives his fiction depth, pulp with a pulse.
Legacy, Influence, and What’s Next
Even with decades of writing behind him, Bell isn’t slowing down.
“I don’t expect to ever be big time, but I’d like some kid in the future to read one of my stories and like it enough to look me up … Then take a shot at writing their own.“
He’s currently finishing a new story “involving three thieves in a post-post-apocalypse,“ and drafting a sequel to Bipolar Express based on his “last exploit in a mental institution for depression.”
Even in that darkness, he finds levity: “Music and laughter to you all,” he signed off.
🔖 Key Takeaways for Writers
- Authenticity outlasts algorithms. Bell’s voice stays raw and human in an increasingly automated era.
- Hybrid paths can pay off. As our hybrid-vs-self-publishing report shows, strategic partnerships amplify reach.
- Write despite everything. From spinal injury to depression, Bell reminds us: showing up is the real secret.
Final Word
B.C. Bell is living proof that pulp isn’t dead, it’s evolving. His Chicago-noir heroes might wear masks, but his creative process doesn’t.
He writes because he has to. Because stories still matter. And because somewhere, someday, a kid might pick up a battered paperback and think, “I want to do that.”
