History books often deal with unknown people in far-away places, but Timothy Egan’s “The Worst Hard Time” is near and timely enough that some may have first-hand memories.
The Pulitzer Prize-winner author presents a true story of the dust-bowl disaster of the early 1900’s, the time of the land runs and Sooners that began the new populating of the state. Generally, at the mention of “dust bowl,” Steinbeck and Tom Joad come to mind, but “The Grapes of Wrath” dealt with Oklahomans who left the miserable conditions for new lives in California, while Egan focuses his attention on those who remained behind.
It may read like fiction, but Egan’s recounting of the hardships faced by those poor plainsmen comes from first hand accounts and source materials that vividly portray the desperation of those facing the towering black clouds of dust.
Given that the disaster was the product of land mismanagement, the story also takes on a man versus nature aspect, a confrontation that demonstrates the power of the planet and the far-reaching results of seemingly harmless tampering. The homesteaders had no idea that the plowing of the grasslands would unleash a storm of blowing dirt and a decade of misery.
“The Worst Hard Time” is also a study of those who remained behind, in many cases people who viewed their homestead as the first real achievement after generations of sharecropping or tenant farming. The diaries kept by those early settlers give heart-wrenching insights into the true extent of the disaster, and the grim determination of those who thought they could ride out the storm.
Certainly, not everyone in Oklahoma is descended from someone who went through the disaster of that era, but understanding that time may give us all a better sense of who we are as a state today.
Monday, April 9, 2007
A Bridge from Childhood
It’s easy to think of the “Chronicles of Narnia” after seeing the movie ads promoting “Bridge to Tarabithia,” based on the coming of age story by Katherine Paterson. The movie will have to stray greatly from the book to reach that level of fantasy, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Paterson’s story – a Newberry Award winner – needs no talking animals to deliver an emotional message of self-discovery, a story springing from a real-life event in the author’s life.
Jess Aarons is a fifth grader in a poor rural community who wants nothing more than to be the fastest runner in school. When a family moves into the run-down farmhouse next door, Jess will have nothing to do with the tomboy daughter, a girl named Leslie who not only possesses a quick wit, but is fast on her feet as well. It turns out she is so fast that the fun of the recess race quickly fades for the boys of Lark Creek Elementary.
Surprisingly, Jess finds that Leslie turns out to be more than a great competitor, and in short order, the two become inseparable friends who find escape in a make-believe world they call Tarabithia. It’s just a crude fort in the woods, but there they rule as king and queen over legions of imagined subjects. Leslie spins tales as easily as do her book-writing parents and Jess soon finds greater causes in the world than winning footraces, and discovers an inner strength born of great tragedy.
Her books are geared to young adults, but Katherine Paterson is – above all else – a first-rate storyteller. The book is now in its thirtieth year, and beyond an innocuous reference or two, has a completely undated timeliness that will serve it well for another thirty, with or without a talking lion.
Paterson’s story – a Newberry Award winner – needs no talking animals to deliver an emotional message of self-discovery, a story springing from a real-life event in the author’s life.
Jess Aarons is a fifth grader in a poor rural community who wants nothing more than to be the fastest runner in school. When a family moves into the run-down farmhouse next door, Jess will have nothing to do with the tomboy daughter, a girl named Leslie who not only possesses a quick wit, but is fast on her feet as well. It turns out she is so fast that the fun of the recess race quickly fades for the boys of Lark Creek Elementary.
Surprisingly, Jess finds that Leslie turns out to be more than a great competitor, and in short order, the two become inseparable friends who find escape in a make-believe world they call Tarabithia. It’s just a crude fort in the woods, but there they rule as king and queen over legions of imagined subjects. Leslie spins tales as easily as do her book-writing parents and Jess soon finds greater causes in the world than winning footraces, and discovers an inner strength born of great tragedy.
Her books are geared to young adults, but Katherine Paterson is – above all else – a first-rate storyteller. The book is now in its thirtieth year, and beyond an innocuous reference or two, has a completely undated timeliness that will serve it well for another thirty, with or without a talking lion.
A Twisting Path through the Woods
The sleepy Irish village of Rossmore gets a wake-up call when a planned road through nearby “Whitethorn Woods” threatens the local shrine to St. Ann, and while the thoroughfare is a common thread, each chapter of Mauve Binchy’s latest novel is a small story unto itself.
Binchy favors tales of the rural Irish, but in “Whitethorn Woods”, she employs a writing style somewhat reminiscent of Willa Cather’s classic “My Antonia,” and each section is a vignette that spotlights a particular character in the unfolding story. Having a road run through a religious shrine may sound like a political puff story, but Binchy offers her own brand of intrigue that includes disappearances, alcoholism, greed, and infidelity, surrounded by the small-town charm of a changing Ireland.
While all of the many characters bring their own piece of the story, particularly compelling are the wonderfully drawn players such as Neddy Nolan, who is sheltered through his young life as one who is “not the sharpest knife in the drawer.” Out on his own, however, Neddy exhibits a cleverness and a gift of uncommon common sense that almost begs a novel of its own.
St. Ann’s well, a shrine believed by some to have a miraculous power to heal broken arms, broken hearts, and broken dreams, becomes the center of the story as the village priest tries to decide which side of the debate will receive his support. Although he is almost embarrassed by the site’s continuing allure and the number of daily visitors, he eventually lays his own troubles at the well in seeking a solution.
Her Irish-flavored novels have been well-received for years, and Whitethorn Woods” is another superbly constructed tale, at once both compelling and tenderly affecting, aptly demonstrating that Maeve Binchy is among the sharpest in the literary drawer.
Binchy favors tales of the rural Irish, but in “Whitethorn Woods”, she employs a writing style somewhat reminiscent of Willa Cather’s classic “My Antonia,” and each section is a vignette that spotlights a particular character in the unfolding story. Having a road run through a religious shrine may sound like a political puff story, but Binchy offers her own brand of intrigue that includes disappearances, alcoholism, greed, and infidelity, surrounded by the small-town charm of a changing Ireland.
While all of the many characters bring their own piece of the story, particularly compelling are the wonderfully drawn players such as Neddy Nolan, who is sheltered through his young life as one who is “not the sharpest knife in the drawer.” Out on his own, however, Neddy exhibits a cleverness and a gift of uncommon common sense that almost begs a novel of its own.
St. Ann’s well, a shrine believed by some to have a miraculous power to heal broken arms, broken hearts, and broken dreams, becomes the center of the story as the village priest tries to decide which side of the debate will receive his support. Although he is almost embarrassed by the site’s continuing allure and the number of daily visitors, he eventually lays his own troubles at the well in seeking a solution.
Her Irish-flavored novels have been well-received for years, and Whitethorn Woods” is another superbly constructed tale, at once both compelling and tenderly affecting, aptly demonstrating that Maeve Binchy is among the sharpest in the literary drawer.
A Class Unto Itself
Aubrey Menen wrote that “A Separate Peace” was the “best-written, best-designed, and most moving novel” he had read in years – which begs the question…who is Aubrey Menen? ("Was" is more appropriate, as the satirist died in India in 1989, after a career as an ad exec and novelist.) His observations were on target, though, and some of Menen's best writing is observed in the cover-blurbs regarding John Knowles’ 1959 coming of age story.
As a title that appears on a number of high school required-reading lists, it might be easy to dismiss “A Separate Peace” as another tedious assignment bent on beating the life out of students. The presence of sixteen-year-olds in the story likely reduced it to an assignment to begin with, but the quality of the writing is what keeps it there.
Although generations removed from the time when general conscription filled the ranks of the armed forces, “A Separate Peace” is able to recapture the uneasiness of that era, and the distinction between those old enough for the WWII draft, and those who have another year of relative innocence. Gene and Phineas are in that latter class, attending an underpopulated summer session at an exclusive New England boy’s school. Gene is an intellectual who tends to read between the lines, while Phineas is athletic smooth-talker who has the ability to get away with anything.
The two wind up as roommates and unlikely best friends, although Gene can scarcely contain his jealousy of Finny’s winning ways. He alternately views his friend as naive and crafty, and in an instant of competitive retribution, Gene bounces on the tree limb on which they are balanced, causing Finny to fall and shatter his leg.
The emotions Knowles touches on in dealing with Gene’s resulting guilt, and the shame of knowing he has permanently changed the life of his friend, are eloquently stated, and certainly identifiable as part of the angst-ridden years of growing toward adulthood. Without giving away details of the story, later complications compound the situation, and Gene – already burdened with intellectual introspection – forces himself to reason or rationalize the ordeal.
Part of the joy of the book is Phineas himself, the sort of character some are fortunate to meet in real life, among those treasured acquaintances who seem to streak like wondrous meteors across the skies of our lives, before disappearing forever from our sight, and - assigned or not - “A Separate Peace” soars as one of life’s extra-credit literary pleasures.
As a title that appears on a number of high school required-reading lists, it might be easy to dismiss “A Separate Peace” as another tedious assignment bent on beating the life out of students. The presence of sixteen-year-olds in the story likely reduced it to an assignment to begin with, but the quality of the writing is what keeps it there.
Although generations removed from the time when general conscription filled the ranks of the armed forces, “A Separate Peace” is able to recapture the uneasiness of that era, and the distinction between those old enough for the WWII draft, and those who have another year of relative innocence. Gene and Phineas are in that latter class, attending an underpopulated summer session at an exclusive New England boy’s school. Gene is an intellectual who tends to read between the lines, while Phineas is athletic smooth-talker who has the ability to get away with anything.
The two wind up as roommates and unlikely best friends, although Gene can scarcely contain his jealousy of Finny’s winning ways. He alternately views his friend as naive and crafty, and in an instant of competitive retribution, Gene bounces on the tree limb on which they are balanced, causing Finny to fall and shatter his leg.
The emotions Knowles touches on in dealing with Gene’s resulting guilt, and the shame of knowing he has permanently changed the life of his friend, are eloquently stated, and certainly identifiable as part of the angst-ridden years of growing toward adulthood. Without giving away details of the story, later complications compound the situation, and Gene – already burdened with intellectual introspection – forces himself to reason or rationalize the ordeal.
Part of the joy of the book is Phineas himself, the sort of character some are fortunate to meet in real life, among those treasured acquaintances who seem to streak like wondrous meteors across the skies of our lives, before disappearing forever from our sight, and - assigned or not - “A Separate Peace” soars as one of life’s extra-credit literary pleasures.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
The Quiet Game
It is always a pleasure to find a Sticky book – one of those that, once picked up, remains so difficult to put down that it seems to stick to your hands. “The Quiet Game” by Greg Iles is one of those.
Iles is a bestselling writer who lives in Natchez, Mississippi, and several of his books center around a bestselling writer who lives in the Deep South – Natchez, in fact. Hopefully, there the similarities end, since the high adventure his character endures would otherwise leave little time for real-life writing.
The story begins with Penn Cage returning to his parent’s home in Natchez. The fictional author has lost his wife to illness, and his young daughter is still painfully distraught over her mother’s death. Settling in, he finds time has changed some aspects of the old home town, but there are lingering reminders of the racial tension of earlier days.
The townsfolk consider him a celebrity of sorts – local boy turned novelist – and the widow of a man killed during the civil rights movement asks Penn’s assistance in solving the thirty-five year old case. He initially declines, believing some things best remain in the past.
He agrees to an interview with the attractive publisher of the local paper, who prints some inflammatory “off the record” comments, and before the ink has dried, he is knee-deep in a murder investigation.
From associates of the victim to members of law enforcement, everyone is playing “The Quiet Game,” holding secret truths close to the vest and saying nothing, knowing that a single revealing word might bring down the entire house of cards. Iles continually raises the stakes, and plays out “The Quiet Game” with the confidence of a card shark, turning up aces in the political back room dealings of the old south.
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Iles is a bestselling writer who lives in Natchez, Mississippi, and several of his books center around a bestselling writer who lives in the Deep South – Natchez, in fact. Hopefully, there the similarities end, since the high adventure his character endures would otherwise leave little time for real-life writing.
The story begins with Penn Cage returning to his parent’s home in Natchez. The fictional author has lost his wife to illness, and his young daughter is still painfully distraught over her mother’s death. Settling in, he finds time has changed some aspects of the old home town, but there are lingering reminders of the racial tension of earlier days.
The townsfolk consider him a celebrity of sorts – local boy turned novelist – and the widow of a man killed during the civil rights movement asks Penn’s assistance in solving the thirty-five year old case. He initially declines, believing some things best remain in the past.
He agrees to an interview with the attractive publisher of the local paper, who prints some inflammatory “off the record” comments, and before the ink has dried, he is knee-deep in a murder investigation.
From associates of the victim to members of law enforcement, everyone is playing “The Quiet Game,” holding secret truths close to the vest and saying nothing, knowing that a single revealing word might bring down the entire house of cards. Iles continually raises the stakes, and plays out “The Quiet Game” with the confidence of a card shark, turning up aces in the political back room dealings of the old south.
View more book titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
The Seventh Unicorn
It is almost a sub-genre altogether – those stories piecing together clues to find missing artifacts, treasures, or manuscripts. Most are Indiana-Jones-type chases to the finish, but author Kelly Jones keeps a slower pace in pursuing a medieval tapestry in “The Seventh Unicorn.”
The six real-life tapestries – The Lady and the Unicorn set – hang in a Paris museum, and Jones uses imagination to weave a fictional seventh tapestry. Her What if? tale stitches together historical facts and flights of fancy in constructing, hiding, and finding a priceless work of art.
In the world of artifact chasing, the women are always beautiful and the men are ruggedly handsome – Jones pens it no differently. Alex Pellier is a curator at the Cluny Museum in Paris, whose wealthy husband died in an accident. She runs into her art-school flame, who gives up teaching to return to Paris to resume painting.
They barely have time to talk over old times when she discovers evidence that indicates the existence of another tapestry, and since Jake has never gotten over his thing for Alex, when she asks for his help, he can’t put the paints away quick enough.
The clues appear amazingly, as though Alex is walking through the story with a shopping cart. She looks down on the floor and spots a torn page with a poem written hundreds of years ago. She opens a book and finds two drawings signed with the same marking as the famous tapestries. Workmen are knocking down a wall, and – what do you know? There is the missing tapestry hidden among the masonry.
Despite its lack of urgency – or perhaps because of it – “The Seventh Unicorn” dances along quite nicely, and finishes with a satisfying flourish. It’s a story with a heart, and it beats steadily from start to finish.
View more titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
The six real-life tapestries – The Lady and the Unicorn set – hang in a Paris museum, and Jones uses imagination to weave a fictional seventh tapestry. Her What if? tale stitches together historical facts and flights of fancy in constructing, hiding, and finding a priceless work of art.
In the world of artifact chasing, the women are always beautiful and the men are ruggedly handsome – Jones pens it no differently. Alex Pellier is a curator at the Cluny Museum in Paris, whose wealthy husband died in an accident. She runs into her art-school flame, who gives up teaching to return to Paris to resume painting.
They barely have time to talk over old times when she discovers evidence that indicates the existence of another tapestry, and since Jake has never gotten over his thing for Alex, when she asks for his help, he can’t put the paints away quick enough.
The clues appear amazingly, as though Alex is walking through the story with a shopping cart. She looks down on the floor and spots a torn page with a poem written hundreds of years ago. She opens a book and finds two drawings signed with the same marking as the famous tapestries. Workmen are knocking down a wall, and – what do you know? There is the missing tapestry hidden among the masonry.
Despite its lack of urgency – or perhaps because of it – “The Seventh Unicorn” dances along quite nicely, and finishes with a satisfying flourish. It’s a story with a heart, and it beats steadily from start to finish.
View more titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
CROSS
At the rate James Patterson is turning out work, he’ll have his next novel finished before he even gets started. At least three titles are set for release in 2007 – four if you count the paperback release of “Cross,” his latest Alex Cross offering.
Patterson fills in the cracks for those who may be new to the series about the psychologist-cop-FBI agent struggling to maintain a family life. “Cross” begins with a flashback to the death of his young wife and resulting life changes, but wastes no time introducing the Butcher of Sligo, a mob-connected hit-man whose real name is Michael Sullivan.
As bad guys go, there is none worse than Michael Sullivan, who takes evil learned at childhood to teach his own brand of heartless brutality. He’s equipped with a scalpel and a camera, and has his way with whoever crosses his path – until he crosses Cross.
Alex discovers a link to the murder of his wife Maria, and puts his single-parent life on hold for a chance to track the killer.
Patterson’s style suits perfectly the delivery of differing points of view – he manages almost seven chapters before page 20 – and the short chapters seem to encourage an already quick read. The pace offers relief from the graphic violence, although some may find an urge to look away.
As with many leading roles developed over several books, there is more nuance than development in the character presentation of Alex Cross. Longtime fans will easily fall into the flow, but first-time readers may find themselves wishing for a little more background.
Patterson delivers his thrillers on target, with just enough late-chapter suspense to satisfy, and the sheer number of James Patterson novels out there gives readers plenty of comparison points. “Cross” holds its own with the best of them.
View more titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
Patterson fills in the cracks for those who may be new to the series about the psychologist-cop-FBI agent struggling to maintain a family life. “Cross” begins with a flashback to the death of his young wife and resulting life changes, but wastes no time introducing the Butcher of Sligo, a mob-connected hit-man whose real name is Michael Sullivan.
As bad guys go, there is none worse than Michael Sullivan, who takes evil learned at childhood to teach his own brand of heartless brutality. He’s equipped with a scalpel and a camera, and has his way with whoever crosses his path – until he crosses Cross.
Alex discovers a link to the murder of his wife Maria, and puts his single-parent life on hold for a chance to track the killer.
Patterson’s style suits perfectly the delivery of differing points of view – he manages almost seven chapters before page 20 – and the short chapters seem to encourage an already quick read. The pace offers relief from the graphic violence, although some may find an urge to look away.
As with many leading roles developed over several books, there is more nuance than development in the character presentation of Alex Cross. Longtime fans will easily fall into the flow, but first-time readers may find themselves wishing for a little more background.
Patterson delivers his thrillers on target, with just enough late-chapter suspense to satisfy, and the sheer number of James Patterson novels out there gives readers plenty of comparison points. “Cross” holds its own with the best of them.
View more titles online at
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and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Moll Flanders
If an occasional older title is eligible for review, why not go back 250 years or more? Daniel Defoe penned “Moll Flanders” in 1722, and although “Robinson Crusoe” is better known, his follow-up story has just as much rollicking action.
It goes without saying that anything written in that day and age will have a completely different dialogue, but once immersed in the jargon of the day, the story of this woman trying to make it on her own has the elements of a great Hollywood story.
She never knew her mother, has hard luck with her husbands, and finds herself telling less than “the whole truth” in trying to improve her station. From a life that began with traveling gypsies, Moll makes herself into a woman of society, and a position of comfort and ease.
As was often the case in those days, she loses all at the death of her husband, and – having no immediate family – finds herself at the mercy of friends and their charity.
She travels across the ocean to Virginia and back again, plots and schemes, and plans again, all the while trying to land herself in a better place. Her escapades go far beyond the expectations of polite society – not only for that time – but in some cases, our own time as well. Critics of Defoe’s time branded the work as immoral, but in actuality, “Moll Flanders” was simply without morals – trying to survive in the cruel times in which she lived.
There are some improbable circumstances of the sort that might be later described as “Dickensian,” but the story has as much adventure and excitement as many of today’s bestsellers.
As with the case of many of the classic works, getting past the language of the time is the first and toughest assignment.
View more titles online at
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and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
It goes without saying that anything written in that day and age will have a completely different dialogue, but once immersed in the jargon of the day, the story of this woman trying to make it on her own has the elements of a great Hollywood story.
She never knew her mother, has hard luck with her husbands, and finds herself telling less than “the whole truth” in trying to improve her station. From a life that began with traveling gypsies, Moll makes herself into a woman of society, and a position of comfort and ease.
As was often the case in those days, she loses all at the death of her husband, and – having no immediate family – finds herself at the mercy of friends and their charity.
She travels across the ocean to Virginia and back again, plots and schemes, and plans again, all the while trying to land herself in a better place. Her escapades go far beyond the expectations of polite society – not only for that time – but in some cases, our own time as well. Critics of Defoe’s time branded the work as immoral, but in actuality, “Moll Flanders” was simply without morals – trying to survive in the cruel times in which she lived.
There are some improbable circumstances of the sort that might be later described as “Dickensian,” but the story has as much adventure and excitement as many of today’s bestsellers.
As with the case of many of the classic works, getting past the language of the time is the first and toughest assignment.
View more titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Atlantis
Mathematicians hated Dan Brown’s novel “Digital Fortress,” claiming it wasn’t realistic enough to be believable. On that basis, archeologists should love David Gibbins’ “Atlantis,” touted as an underwater “Da Vinci Code.”
The cover art, subject matter, and author’s background offer great potential for historical suspense, and clearly Gibbins has the ability to deliver such a story.
Like “Da Vinci,” an ancient puzzle holds clues that point to a civilization considered only mythical, until archaeologist Jack Howard and his team break the code and discover enough facts to lead them on an expedition to find the lost city of Atlantis.
Quicker than you can say “Clive Cussler,” Jack and his team locate the exact locate of the sunken civilization, and fortunately, he and his team are experts in underwater archeology. They have all the latest equipment, miniature subs, robotic cameras, laser-driven cutting torches, sophisticated airlocks, and knowledge of all the current land, sea, and air-based weaponry.
That last bit comes in handy, since all sorts of weapon-toting adversaries are willing to do anything to steal away the find of the century.
If the story sounds a lot like Clive Cussler’s “Atlantis Found,” it may be because it is – the difference being Cussler’s typical over-the-top dialogue, and Gibbins’ writing that reads more like a tech-manual. Every character is an expert who explains everything in detail – Russian submarines, Greek hieroglyphics, Mediterranean hydrology – it doesn’t matter. Everyone gets a chance to stand on a soapbox to spell out what the obscure facts mean to the Atlantis search.
Unfortunately, too much of a good thing tends to work against the result, and while Gibbins writes with the authority of the Cambridge PhD that he is, too much of the novel reads like a professor’s lecture. “Atlantis” might be the perfect text for Marine Archeology 101.
View more titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
The cover art, subject matter, and author’s background offer great potential for historical suspense, and clearly Gibbins has the ability to deliver such a story.
Like “Da Vinci,” an ancient puzzle holds clues that point to a civilization considered only mythical, until archaeologist Jack Howard and his team break the code and discover enough facts to lead them on an expedition to find the lost city of Atlantis.
Quicker than you can say “Clive Cussler,” Jack and his team locate the exact locate of the sunken civilization, and fortunately, he and his team are experts in underwater archeology. They have all the latest equipment, miniature subs, robotic cameras, laser-driven cutting torches, sophisticated airlocks, and knowledge of all the current land, sea, and air-based weaponry.
That last bit comes in handy, since all sorts of weapon-toting adversaries are willing to do anything to steal away the find of the century.
If the story sounds a lot like Clive Cussler’s “Atlantis Found,” it may be because it is – the difference being Cussler’s typical over-the-top dialogue, and Gibbins’ writing that reads more like a tech-manual. Every character is an expert who explains everything in detail – Russian submarines, Greek hieroglyphics, Mediterranean hydrology – it doesn’t matter. Everyone gets a chance to stand on a soapbox to spell out what the obscure facts mean to the Atlantis search.
Unfortunately, too much of a good thing tends to work against the result, and while Gibbins writes with the authority of the Cambridge PhD that he is, too much of the novel reads like a professor’s lecture. “Atlantis” might be the perfect text for Marine Archeology 101.
View more titles online at
http://mchustonbooks.com
and click on the Collectibles tab for our Alibris listings.
The Big Bounce
The prolific output of crime fiction writer Elmore Leonard somehow eluded me, and there is a possibility I took on the wrong book for my first encounter. He’s written some 35 novels, and “The Big Bounce” at its release more than thirty years ago represented his move away from westerns.
The story holds up surprisingly well, despite its age, and – if not for references to then-current Detroit baseball players and the prices of homes – it could have been written last year. Baseball is the background of Jack Ryan, a washed-up minor leaguer who has fallen into petty crime.
He’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but he’s colorful enough to make up for it. Immediately after accepting a handyman’s job, he meets a high-roller’s mistress who believes Jack and his criminal background are the ticket to the scamming of her Sugar Daddy’s payroll.
Jack isn’t so easily convinced, although he has a tough time saying no to Nancy, who is bored with the life of the idle rich. Her idea of fun is throwing rocks through beach house windows and then running away when the lights come on.
Leonard’s casual style makes it easy to fall in with his characters, wondering to what degree the thrill-seeking Nancy will go before her actions will finally bring her down, and marveling at Jack’s ability to float along at life’s fringes. The strength of “The Big Bounce” is in its characters, but unfortunately, there is little in the way of plot to keep the story heading toward a finish. That may be the reason the book has no conclusion. You turn the last page looking for the rest. There isn’t any more.
To appreciate his writing style, “The Big Bounce” is a ball, but as a well-plotted story, it simply falls flat.
The story holds up surprisingly well, despite its age, and – if not for references to then-current Detroit baseball players and the prices of homes – it could have been written last year. Baseball is the background of Jack Ryan, a washed-up minor leaguer who has fallen into petty crime.
He’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but he’s colorful enough to make up for it. Immediately after accepting a handyman’s job, he meets a high-roller’s mistress who believes Jack and his criminal background are the ticket to the scamming of her Sugar Daddy’s payroll.
Jack isn’t so easily convinced, although he has a tough time saying no to Nancy, who is bored with the life of the idle rich. Her idea of fun is throwing rocks through beach house windows and then running away when the lights come on.
Leonard’s casual style makes it easy to fall in with his characters, wondering to what degree the thrill-seeking Nancy will go before her actions will finally bring her down, and marveling at Jack’s ability to float along at life’s fringes. The strength of “The Big Bounce” is in its characters, but unfortunately, there is little in the way of plot to keep the story heading toward a finish. That may be the reason the book has no conclusion. You turn the last page looking for the rest. There isn’t any more.
To appreciate his writing style, “The Big Bounce” is a ball, but as a well-plotted story, it simply falls flat.
The Black Echo
In comic strips and fiction, our favorite characters rarely age. Beetle Bailey hasn’t changed a bit. James Bond would need a super-spy walker if Ian Fleming’s character grew older with time. Suspense author Michael Connelly allows the passage of time play a part in his stories, and in “The Black Echo,” he introduces a character that has become his stock-in-trade.
Mrs. Bosch named her son, Hieronymus, but is no surprise that the LA detective prefers to be called Harry Bosch. A Vietnam veteran who makes a mark on the police force, Bosch is a hero who takes a fall over a shooting death. Despite its name, his reassignment to the Hollywood division is hardly a glamorous post.
Bosch doesn’t believe in coincidence, so when he discovers the body of a veteran he served with, he won’t write it off as an overdose, and his investigation uncovers a link to a major bank robbery.
Connelly is a former crime reporter and his contact with law enforcement undoubtedly provides the gripping authenticity he manages in following the case. In his “Black Echo” introduction of Harry Bosch, Connelly provides a solid foundation that has now endured through twelve novels, with the latest – “Echo Park” – released this fall.
There are offbeat and eccentric crime fighters – Preston and Child’s Aloysius Pendergast as an example – then there is serious and straightforward Harry Bosch. He follows the clues, follows his instincts, and follows the rules.
Michael Connelly also writes stand-alone suspense, which allows him to present enough background in each Bosch outing to thoroughly flesh out his story. To know Harry Bosch though, is to know Hieronymus – his name, his style, and his background – and in getting to know suspense writers, there are few better than Michael Connelly and “The Black Echo” is a great starting point.
Mrs. Bosch named her son, Hieronymus, but is no surprise that the LA detective prefers to be called Harry Bosch. A Vietnam veteran who makes a mark on the police force, Bosch is a hero who takes a fall over a shooting death. Despite its name, his reassignment to the Hollywood division is hardly a glamorous post.
Bosch doesn’t believe in coincidence, so when he discovers the body of a veteran he served with, he won’t write it off as an overdose, and his investigation uncovers a link to a major bank robbery.
Connelly is a former crime reporter and his contact with law enforcement undoubtedly provides the gripping authenticity he manages in following the case. In his “Black Echo” introduction of Harry Bosch, Connelly provides a solid foundation that has now endured through twelve novels, with the latest – “Echo Park” – released this fall.
There are offbeat and eccentric crime fighters – Preston and Child’s Aloysius Pendergast as an example – then there is serious and straightforward Harry Bosch. He follows the clues, follows his instincts, and follows the rules.
Michael Connelly also writes stand-alone suspense, which allows him to present enough background in each Bosch outing to thoroughly flesh out his story. To know Harry Bosch though, is to know Hieronymus – his name, his style, and his background – and in getting to know suspense writers, there are few better than Michael Connelly and “The Black Echo” is a great starting point.
The Chatham School Affair
Some books lend themselves to discussion, and Thomas H. Cook’s writing in “The Chatham School Affair” is perfectly suited to book-club group readings, particularly those attracted by presentation as well as plot. Classified alternately as mystery and suspense, Cook’s fluid style fits comfortably with contemporary literature, and the haunting prose faultlessly complements his wind-blown Massachusetts coastal setting.
Narrated by an aging Henry Griswald, the story begins with his recollection on a new teacher’s arrival in 1926 at the boy’s school at which his father is headmaster. The young woman is both beautiful and mysterious, and the glamorous notions and exotic tales she includes as part of her daily art lessons quickly captivate young Henry.
It’s clear, in his recounting of the events of his youth, that something devastating has occurred in Chatham, an event dramatic enough to alter forever the lives of the townspeople, and – even decades later – to incite casual references to those involved.
It isn’t clear though, exactly what happened so many years ago.
Cook easily maneuvers between the present and memories of Henry’s days as a student of Elizabeth Channing, and his portraits of the characters are so compelling that the intimation of tragedy seems almost incidental. As though revealed by ghosts flitting through the story, the cataclysmic event remains a mystery, and glimpses of the aftereffects provide the only clues as to what transpired that fateful day at Black Pond.
Even when Cook finally identifies his tragedy, he withholds enough cards to trump the initial surprise. The ending is startling and unconventional, and undoubtedly part of the reason “The Chatham School Affair” won awards from the mystery community.
It’s a first rate novel, one that will create longtime fans of Thomas H. Cook, whose latest effort – “The Cloud of Unknowing” – is set for a January release.
Narrated by an aging Henry Griswald, the story begins with his recollection on a new teacher’s arrival in 1926 at the boy’s school at which his father is headmaster. The young woman is both beautiful and mysterious, and the glamorous notions and exotic tales she includes as part of her daily art lessons quickly captivate young Henry.
It’s clear, in his recounting of the events of his youth, that something devastating has occurred in Chatham, an event dramatic enough to alter forever the lives of the townspeople, and – even decades later – to incite casual references to those involved.
It isn’t clear though, exactly what happened so many years ago.
Cook easily maneuvers between the present and memories of Henry’s days as a student of Elizabeth Channing, and his portraits of the characters are so compelling that the intimation of tragedy seems almost incidental. As though revealed by ghosts flitting through the story, the cataclysmic event remains a mystery, and glimpses of the aftereffects provide the only clues as to what transpired that fateful day at Black Pond.
Even when Cook finally identifies his tragedy, he withholds enough cards to trump the initial surprise. The ending is startling and unconventional, and undoubtedly part of the reason “The Chatham School Affair” won awards from the mystery community.
It’s a first rate novel, one that will create longtime fans of Thomas H. Cook, whose latest effort – “The Cloud of Unknowing” – is set for a January release.
Dear John
Soldiers in World War 2 called them “Dear Johns” – letters written from wives or girlfriends back home who couldn’t wait or had found someone else. It’s no surprise the “Dear John” from author Nicholas Sparks is filled with distance, longing, and broken hearts.
John Tyree is a rowdy type from North Carolina who straightens out his life by joining the US Army, then tangles it back up on leave when he meets college student Savannah Lynn Curtis. She’s a near-perfect straight arrow, and in typical Nicholas Sparks fashion, they manage to exchange an “I love you” by the third date.
Their two week romance consists of walking tours, cheeseburgers, and surfing lessons, but by the time John is packing his suitcase to return overseas, they are vowing eternal love. John promises to write regularly, email, and call when he can, and Savannah promises to wait. Their pledges are easy to keep in the beginning, but – as in the case of many long distance loves – eventually the two start drifting apart.
The “Dear John” letter from Savannah still comes as a surprise to him, but rather than trying to contact his lost love, John signs up for another tour of duty. It takes his father’s funeral to bring him back to North Carolina.
Sparks sets up the reunion of the two in a scenario that is rife with possibilities. Savannah’s husband isn’t home and she surprises John with an offer to cook dinner. In a situation reminiscent of the ill-fated scene in Ethan Frome, the two are alone in the house with all the tension of the love they once shared.
Suffice to say, Edith Wharton would have played it differently – but “Dear John” will satisfy fans of Nicholas Sparks with its short simple style, easy prose, and trademark poignant moments.
John Tyree is a rowdy type from North Carolina who straightens out his life by joining the US Army, then tangles it back up on leave when he meets college student Savannah Lynn Curtis. She’s a near-perfect straight arrow, and in typical Nicholas Sparks fashion, they manage to exchange an “I love you” by the third date.
Their two week romance consists of walking tours, cheeseburgers, and surfing lessons, but by the time John is packing his suitcase to return overseas, they are vowing eternal love. John promises to write regularly, email, and call when he can, and Savannah promises to wait. Their pledges are easy to keep in the beginning, but – as in the case of many long distance loves – eventually the two start drifting apart.
The “Dear John” letter from Savannah still comes as a surprise to him, but rather than trying to contact his lost love, John signs up for another tour of duty. It takes his father’s funeral to bring him back to North Carolina.
Sparks sets up the reunion of the two in a scenario that is rife with possibilities. Savannah’s husband isn’t home and she surprises John with an offer to cook dinner. In a situation reminiscent of the ill-fated scene in Ethan Frome, the two are alone in the house with all the tension of the love they once shared.
Suffice to say, Edith Wharton would have played it differently – but “Dear John” will satisfy fans of Nicholas Sparks with its short simple style, easy prose, and trademark poignant moments.
Final Approach
John J. Nance continues to delight aviation fans with novels set amidst the workings of the airline industry. He knows the territory – he’s a decorated Air Force pilot – one you may have seen as an analyst on the TV networks. In “Final Approach,” he first applied his working knowledge of the skies to the pages of a suspense novel.
On a stormy night at a major Midwestern airport, a jetliner comes in short and slices into another airliner waiting for takeoff – a disaster of major proportions.
Joe Wallingford is an investigator for the National Transportation and Safety Board, the group that determines the causes of accidents, and his group gets the call to find out if the crash was the result of the storm, human error, sabotage, or mechanical failure. It reads like CSI: Airport.
Nance provides plausible circumstances for each of the possibilities. A person aboard the flight had enemies, a top-secret government project was being moved at the airport, the airline appears to be covering for the pilot’s health, and the storm had already produced several near-crashes.
During his investigation, Wallingford and his NTSB crew face cover-ups by the government, the airline, and even his coworkers. To top it off, his boss is a political appointee whose meddling threatens the objectivity of the probe.
Unfortunately, few industries have undergone changes like the airlines, and some action in “Final Approach” reads like Stone Age fiction – nervous passengers sneak smokes and unticketed family members board the plane to tuck children into their seats. To his credit, Nance provides such compelling characters that it is easy to overlook the dated aspects.
His later works provide more action, and “Final Approach” reads like a police procedural compared to his just-released “Orbit.” Either way, it’s high-flying fun with John Nance at the controls.
On a stormy night at a major Midwestern airport, a jetliner comes in short and slices into another airliner waiting for takeoff – a disaster of major proportions.
Joe Wallingford is an investigator for the National Transportation and Safety Board, the group that determines the causes of accidents, and his group gets the call to find out if the crash was the result of the storm, human error, sabotage, or mechanical failure. It reads like CSI: Airport.
Nance provides plausible circumstances for each of the possibilities. A person aboard the flight had enemies, a top-secret government project was being moved at the airport, the airline appears to be covering for the pilot’s health, and the storm had already produced several near-crashes.
During his investigation, Wallingford and his NTSB crew face cover-ups by the government, the airline, and even his coworkers. To top it off, his boss is a political appointee whose meddling threatens the objectivity of the probe.
Unfortunately, few industries have undergone changes like the airlines, and some action in “Final Approach” reads like Stone Age fiction – nervous passengers sneak smokes and unticketed family members board the plane to tuck children into their seats. To his credit, Nance provides such compelling characters that it is easy to overlook the dated aspects.
His later works provide more action, and “Final Approach” reads like a police procedural compared to his just-released “Orbit.” Either way, it’s high-flying fun with John Nance at the controls.
For One More Day
Each of us has a small box of shame tucked away somewhere. For some, it may be no bigger than a matchbox, containing an unkind word, or a life regret that cannot be undone. Mitch Albom opens a shoebox with “For One More Day,” his latest effort offering insights into life and choices.
The author of “Tuesdays with Morrie” and “The Five People You Meet in Heaven” strikes familiar chords in telling the story of Charles “Chick” Benetto, a former ballplayer who has forgotten to pay the same amount of attention descending the mountain as he did making the climb. He drinks too much, argues with his wife and daughter, and winds up - down and out.
The turning point arrives at an old-timers game, which Chick attends rather than visiting with his elderly mother. Her fatal heart attack occurs, ironically, at the exact moment he steps up to the plate, and his absence packs enough guilt to haunt him the rest of his life, eventually alienating those he loves and cares about. In a fit of despair, he decides to end it all.
Albom has a knack for seamless storytelling and the small book may be an evening’s effort for quick readers, but despite its size, it packs a powerful punch. He provides a storyteller who relates Chick’s story, offering both the good and the not-so as Chick grows up under the care of his divorced mother, and in bringing items into the light from the dark of the shoebox, Albom will almost certainly provoke soul searching among his readers.
Much like “The Ultimate Gift,” there are opportunities for self-reflection provided in the context of a well-written story, and for some, a chance to empty out the regrets and enjoy what is important, if only “For One More Day.”
The author of “Tuesdays with Morrie” and “The Five People You Meet in Heaven” strikes familiar chords in telling the story of Charles “Chick” Benetto, a former ballplayer who has forgotten to pay the same amount of attention descending the mountain as he did making the climb. He drinks too much, argues with his wife and daughter, and winds up - down and out.
The turning point arrives at an old-timers game, which Chick attends rather than visiting with his elderly mother. Her fatal heart attack occurs, ironically, at the exact moment he steps up to the plate, and his absence packs enough guilt to haunt him the rest of his life, eventually alienating those he loves and cares about. In a fit of despair, he decides to end it all.
Albom has a knack for seamless storytelling and the small book may be an evening’s effort for quick readers, but despite its size, it packs a powerful punch. He provides a storyteller who relates Chick’s story, offering both the good and the not-so as Chick grows up under the care of his divorced mother, and in bringing items into the light from the dark of the shoebox, Albom will almost certainly provoke soul searching among his readers.
Much like “The Ultimate Gift,” there are opportunities for self-reflection provided in the context of a well-written story, and for some, a chance to empty out the regrets and enjoy what is important, if only “For One More Day.”
The Mephisto Club
The latest to join the Da Vinci Code - Biblical Myths genre is Tess Gerritsen’s “The Mephisto Club, a thriller that supposes that an evil race of creatures inhabits the earth, a mixture of fallen angels and upstart women.
Following the fashion of Dan Brown, the book opens with a ritualistic and gruesome murder, and some cryptic signs and letters, including the word “Peccavi” – Latin for “I have sinned.” On the case are Gerritsen’s regulars, Boston medical examiner Maura Isles and Detective Jane Rizzoli, investigation collaborators over the course of five or six books.
Their fictional time together is only important in that – much in the case of other authors – there are continuing story lines that may not be as clear to a first time reader as they are important to those familiar with the characters.
Knowing that Gerritsen weaves plotlines in this fashion helps explain the unanswered questions at the end of the story, and gratefully, her references to previous cases are minimal. In “The Mephisto Club,” she brings in a group of sophisticated Sherlock Holmes wannabes who – despite their credentials – fair poorly against the symbol scrawling suspect, who is targeting the crime fighters.
There are subplots aplenty, and chases through several countries, as Gerritsen intertwines two seemingly separate stories. There is never a question which bad guy is lurking about, but her tight presentation and well-constructed twists keep the suspense level high until the conclusion. In the vein of Preston and Child’s “Brimstone,” Gerritsen skirts the edge of believability in providing a supernatural overtone.
Clearly, a depth exists in her primary characters, achieved over the course of numerous writings, and the solid storytelling in “The Mephisto Club” may be reason enough to visit the previous offerings featuring Maura Isles, Jane Rizzoli, and the remainder of the Gerritsen Club.
Following the fashion of Dan Brown, the book opens with a ritualistic and gruesome murder, and some cryptic signs and letters, including the word “Peccavi” – Latin for “I have sinned.” On the case are Gerritsen’s regulars, Boston medical examiner Maura Isles and Detective Jane Rizzoli, investigation collaborators over the course of five or six books.
Their fictional time together is only important in that – much in the case of other authors – there are continuing story lines that may not be as clear to a first time reader as they are important to those familiar with the characters.
Knowing that Gerritsen weaves plotlines in this fashion helps explain the unanswered questions at the end of the story, and gratefully, her references to previous cases are minimal. In “The Mephisto Club,” she brings in a group of sophisticated Sherlock Holmes wannabes who – despite their credentials – fair poorly against the symbol scrawling suspect, who is targeting the crime fighters.
There are subplots aplenty, and chases through several countries, as Gerritsen intertwines two seemingly separate stories. There is never a question which bad guy is lurking about, but her tight presentation and well-constructed twists keep the suspense level high until the conclusion. In the vein of Preston and Child’s “Brimstone,” Gerritsen skirts the edge of believability in providing a supernatural overtone.
Clearly, a depth exists in her primary characters, achieved over the course of numerous writings, and the solid storytelling in “The Mephisto Club” may be reason enough to visit the previous offerings featuring Maura Isles, Jane Rizzoli, and the remainder of the Gerritsen Club.
Plum Lovin'
Authors with a loyal following are able to crank out smaller works for special occasions like Fourth of July or Thanksgiving. Most come at years end -think John Grisham in “Skipping Christmas” and the annual Mary Higgins Clark offerings.
For fans of Stephanie Plum, author Janet Evanovich is sending along a purple-colored Valentine in “Plum Lovin,” a short and sweet offering that takes less than 200 pages to wrap everything in a bow. Unlike the traditional box of chocolates though, her readers should know what to expect inside.
Stephanie Plum is normally a smart-talking, gun-toting bond enforcement agent, but in “Plum Lovin,’” she spends most of her time playing the part of Cupid. Her bail-bondsman uncle Vinny is out of town, leaving her with a single case, a matchmaker charged with armed robbery. The woman is in the custody of Diesel, another of Stephanie’s acquaintances, who offers to trade the woman if Stephanie will complete the matchmaking.
Even compared to Evanovich’s normal fare, this is pretty fluffy stuff. Faithful readers will recognize Diesel as the scruffy blonde from the Christmastime “Visions” outing. Joe Morelli and Ranger - the other men in Stephanie’s life – make only token appearances, as do the regular band of ‘Burg residents.
Janet Evanovich has been writing the Stephanie Plum mysteries for more than a dozen years now, and the numbered series is as popular as ever. The wise-cracking Stephanie is always good for light reading laughs, and only occasionally falls into the desperate situations that befall normal detectives. Mostly she’s on the lookout for another jelly doughnut or Chicken-in-a-Bucket snack to tide her over until dinner.
“Plum Lovin’” is just that kind of tide-me-over, a low-calorie confection that goes down easily, and won’t ruin an appetite while the finished touches are made to the main course.
For fans of Stephanie Plum, author Janet Evanovich is sending along a purple-colored Valentine in “Plum Lovin,” a short and sweet offering that takes less than 200 pages to wrap everything in a bow. Unlike the traditional box of chocolates though, her readers should know what to expect inside.
Stephanie Plum is normally a smart-talking, gun-toting bond enforcement agent, but in “Plum Lovin,’” she spends most of her time playing the part of Cupid. Her bail-bondsman uncle Vinny is out of town, leaving her with a single case, a matchmaker charged with armed robbery. The woman is in the custody of Diesel, another of Stephanie’s acquaintances, who offers to trade the woman if Stephanie will complete the matchmaking.
Even compared to Evanovich’s normal fare, this is pretty fluffy stuff. Faithful readers will recognize Diesel as the scruffy blonde from the Christmastime “Visions” outing. Joe Morelli and Ranger - the other men in Stephanie’s life – make only token appearances, as do the regular band of ‘Burg residents.
Janet Evanovich has been writing the Stephanie Plum mysteries for more than a dozen years now, and the numbered series is as popular as ever. The wise-cracking Stephanie is always good for light reading laughs, and only occasionally falls into the desperate situations that befall normal detectives. Mostly she’s on the lookout for another jelly doughnut or Chicken-in-a-Bucket snack to tide her over until dinner.
“Plum Lovin’” is just that kind of tide-me-over, a low-calorie confection that goes down easily, and won’t ruin an appetite while the finished touches are made to the main course.
Proof Positive
When wolves are guarding the chicken house, there is little to fear beyond the security system – a point soundly made by novelist Phillip Margolin in his latest effort set in Portland, Oregon.
In “Proof Positive,” the wolf in question is Bernie Cashman, a forensic scientist who looks in the mirror and sees a superhero, if not wearing a mask and cape, at least sending bad guys off to prison. He takes pride in his appearance and his work, but unfortunately, his work only has the appearance of delivering the truth. He’s decided that a little doctored evidence and a few white lies on the witness stand are dismissible when serving the greater good and giving criminals their just rewards.
When coworker Mary Clark discovers a piece of key evidence isn’t what it is supposed to be, she confronts Cashman, who quickly changes into the werewolf at the front gate. To cover his evidence tampering, the forensic scientist uses all the equipment and techniques at his disposal and begins methodically bumping off anyone who raises so much as a question.
Margolin presents a large cast of characters, several of whom made appearance in previous novels, but without the benefit of the previous stories, it is hard to tell the stars of the story from the supporting characters. It may be more realistic, though, in that it’s a group effort rather than a Miss Marple Marvel single-handedly solving the crimes.
It’s also fortunate that he begins with a large cast, since Margolin has no qualms about knocking off sympathetic characters, even those appearing to be crucial to the solution. His presentation of forensic science will appeal to CSI fans, and the premise of the story raises valid questions about who guards the security system to keep wolves off the chicken house payroll.
In “Proof Positive,” the wolf in question is Bernie Cashman, a forensic scientist who looks in the mirror and sees a superhero, if not wearing a mask and cape, at least sending bad guys off to prison. He takes pride in his appearance and his work, but unfortunately, his work only has the appearance of delivering the truth. He’s decided that a little doctored evidence and a few white lies on the witness stand are dismissible when serving the greater good and giving criminals their just rewards.
When coworker Mary Clark discovers a piece of key evidence isn’t what it is supposed to be, she confronts Cashman, who quickly changes into the werewolf at the front gate. To cover his evidence tampering, the forensic scientist uses all the equipment and techniques at his disposal and begins methodically bumping off anyone who raises so much as a question.
Margolin presents a large cast of characters, several of whom made appearance in previous novels, but without the benefit of the previous stories, it is hard to tell the stars of the story from the supporting characters. It may be more realistic, though, in that it’s a group effort rather than a Miss Marple Marvel single-handedly solving the crimes.
It’s also fortunate that he begins with a large cast, since Margolin has no qualms about knocking off sympathetic characters, even those appearing to be crucial to the solution. His presentation of forensic science will appeal to CSI fans, and the premise of the story raises valid questions about who guards the security system to keep wolves off the chicken house payroll.
Ricochet
Someone must have told Sandra Brown she strayed too far from her Romance roots with last year’s “Chill Factor,” a solid suspense offering. She mixes apprehension and amour in “Ricochet,” returning to her more familiar Romantic Suspense.
Homicide detective Duncan Hatcher has a fit when the judge tosses out his case against criminal mastermind Robert Savich, but the trouble really starts when Hatcher meets the judge’s dazzlingly-beautiful trophy wife Elise. From that moment on, he can’t get her out of his mind, mostly because he’s assigned the case when she shoots an intruder in their posh home.
Hatcher doesn’t believe her self-defense claim and intends to throw the book at her, but unfortunately grabs the police ethics manual, and quickly begins breaking all the rules in the chapter covering association with suspects. Her lingering glance turns into secretly passed notes, telephone messages, and clandestine meetings, all designed to get Hatcher to come to her aid. Her husband – the Judge – is trying to kill her, she says, but Hatcher finds that equally hard to believe.
Brown leaves no doubt that her hunky detective has fallen madly for his suspect, and although a preacher’s son, Hatcher hatches some wild thoughts during the investigation, none of which Brown is shy about passing along.
To some extent, readers have come to expect caricatures in novels much like anticipating the bumbling but lovable sidekick appearing in every Disney movie. Brown offers a medical examiner who concludes a dissection with a snack, the evil-incarnate drug lord, and the private eye who stands a single rung above the criminals on the legal ladder. Her main characters, though – even her smitten detective – have a quality that renders them credible, and her tightly wound plot works well toward a believable conclusion.
It’s hard to expect more of any story.
Homicide detective Duncan Hatcher has a fit when the judge tosses out his case against criminal mastermind Robert Savich, but the trouble really starts when Hatcher meets the judge’s dazzlingly-beautiful trophy wife Elise. From that moment on, he can’t get her out of his mind, mostly because he’s assigned the case when she shoots an intruder in their posh home.
Hatcher doesn’t believe her self-defense claim and intends to throw the book at her, but unfortunately grabs the police ethics manual, and quickly begins breaking all the rules in the chapter covering association with suspects. Her lingering glance turns into secretly passed notes, telephone messages, and clandestine meetings, all designed to get Hatcher to come to her aid. Her husband – the Judge – is trying to kill her, she says, but Hatcher finds that equally hard to believe.
Brown leaves no doubt that her hunky detective has fallen madly for his suspect, and although a preacher’s son, Hatcher hatches some wild thoughts during the investigation, none of which Brown is shy about passing along.
To some extent, readers have come to expect caricatures in novels much like anticipating the bumbling but lovable sidekick appearing in every Disney movie. Brown offers a medical examiner who concludes a dissection with a snack, the evil-incarnate drug lord, and the private eye who stands a single rung above the criminals on the legal ladder. Her main characters, though – even her smitten detective – have a quality that renders them credible, and her tightly wound plot works well toward a believable conclusion.
It’s hard to expect more of any story.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
State of Fear
Michael Crichton enjoys continued success with his science-based storytelling – his latest paperback “State of Fear” offers a fictional story complete with factual footnotes regarding research into the theory of global warming.
It’s a credit to Crichton’s skill that he can weave a page-turning suspense novel from statistical topics, but despite the inclusion of scientific data, the story races after a missing philanthropist and a misguided environmental group.
Just before his billionaire client disappears, attorney Peter Evans is given a cryptic phrase that reveals a secret list of disasters planned by a group of eco-terrorists.
As an attorney, Evans is sharp but naïve, and needs the assistance of several gun-toting James Bond types to figure out what is going on. The top spy is John Kenner, who – in addition to holding secret agent and MIT credentials – has the sort of memory that allows him to quote facts that include source references. He’s a one man army and a walking encyclopedia, and leaps down from his soapbox to fly helicopters into jungle dangers, drive jeeps ahead of tsunami waves, and disarm explosives on polar icecaps.
Along with Kenner and his silent sidekick, Evans helps save the planet, and almost gets the tall, beautiful, pistol-packing administrative assistant to like him.
Crichton provides plenty of action, but even his biggest fans may take exception to the facts, graphs, and references that inundate the narrative. At times, the manner in which Kenner imparts information comes almost like a commercial in the middle of Law and Order – just when the action picks up, it all stops for a brief word about cholesterol.
In Kenner’s case, the words concern environmentalists. Michael Crichton’s cause may be slightly stronger than his story, but “State of Fear” certainly heats up the idea of chasing down the facts on global warming.
It’s a credit to Crichton’s skill that he can weave a page-turning suspense novel from statistical topics, but despite the inclusion of scientific data, the story races after a missing philanthropist and a misguided environmental group.
Just before his billionaire client disappears, attorney Peter Evans is given a cryptic phrase that reveals a secret list of disasters planned by a group of eco-terrorists.
As an attorney, Evans is sharp but naïve, and needs the assistance of several gun-toting James Bond types to figure out what is going on. The top spy is John Kenner, who – in addition to holding secret agent and MIT credentials – has the sort of memory that allows him to quote facts that include source references. He’s a one man army and a walking encyclopedia, and leaps down from his soapbox to fly helicopters into jungle dangers, drive jeeps ahead of tsunami waves, and disarm explosives on polar icecaps.
Along with Kenner and his silent sidekick, Evans helps save the planet, and almost gets the tall, beautiful, pistol-packing administrative assistant to like him.
Crichton provides plenty of action, but even his biggest fans may take exception to the facts, graphs, and references that inundate the narrative. At times, the manner in which Kenner imparts information comes almost like a commercial in the middle of Law and Order – just when the action picks up, it all stops for a brief word about cholesterol.
In Kenner’s case, the words concern environmentalists. Michael Crichton’s cause may be slightly stronger than his story, but “State of Fear” certainly heats up the idea of chasing down the facts on global warming.
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