Here are the twists. The good guys are really the bad guys. The bad guy is a good guy – sort of. The dead are alive, and the living – at least in the case of protagonist Wes Holloway – might as well be dead.
Brad Meltzer’s recent outing “The Book of Fate,” has such twisty-twists, how can he go wrong?
Unfortunately, what should be good, really just isn’t.
Meltzer has an insider approach to D.C. politics that rings with authority. Conversations could have been taken from any Oval Office recording, and his characters should carry any story - but it is hard to root for the criminals.
Grisham’s “The Brethren,” for example, offers discredited judges as heroes, running a blackmail operation from behind bars. Sorry, John. Didn’t work. Bad guys are supposed to get what they deserve.
Meltzer takes rogue FBI, CIA, and Secret Service agents and alternately has them protect Holloway, then harass him to cover their scheme – selling secrets to the government. The true bad guy, an unfortunate schizophrenic off his medication, eventually saves Holloway, but it’s hard to feel good about it.
Meanwhile Holloway has to figure out the clues, if he can just get past his whining, self-indulgent focus on the past. Fortunately, he possesses Hawaii Five-O (remember that show?) abilities to shoot truth from thin air, just like Steve McGarrett.
Danno: “No one has a motive.”
McGarrett: “What if it was three rogue agents working in collusion to sell information to the government in an espionage scheme?”
Danno: “Of course!”
Meltzer tosses in Masonic references to hit that bandwagon, and codes to decipher for another, which have no bearing on the little plot. His fans may hope for better material next outing. “The Book of Fate” expresses the fate of books built from a house of cards.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Does a bear read in THE WOODS?
Harlan Coben is a magician. He may write “author” on his income tax form, but his stock-in-trade is sleight-of-hand. When David Copperfield makes the Statue of Liberty disappear, everyone smiles in acknowledging the nifty trick. Coben makes his brand of magic seem real.
In “The Woods,” a twenty-year-old mystery comes back to haunt Paul Copeland, now a New Jersey county prosecutor. His sister disappeared way back then, along with another teenager – both believed to be victims of a serial killer. When detectives find news clippings related to the decades old murder in the pockets of a murder victim, it puts a new spin on an old investigation.
“Cope” as he is called, has troubling coping with the revelation. The latest victim has old scar – one the prosecutor recognizes from twenty years ago – and, he thinks, if one person could survive that night, then…
Credit Coben’s writing style for drawing readers into the story with the same gullibility as marks watching a game of three-card-monte. You put your money down and believe you can follow the shifting cards, then – Pow! – he’s gotcha. One person says this, another says that. Who is telling the truth?
Maybe, no one.
In most of Coben’s stand-alone novels (those not part of the Myron Bolitar series), an ordinary man has to dig out from extraordinary circumstances. In many ways, this book is a departure. The county prosecutor is a buddy of the governor and has his own political ambitions. Hardly Joe-next-door.
There are no variations on Coben’s pacing.
This book is hard to put down – another credit to the writing – and it is only after closing the cover that some of the elements of “The Woods” come back to haunt. While the curtain is up and the lights are on though, Coben is a master of misdirection.
In “The Woods,” a twenty-year-old mystery comes back to haunt Paul Copeland, now a New Jersey county prosecutor. His sister disappeared way back then, along with another teenager – both believed to be victims of a serial killer. When detectives find news clippings related to the decades old murder in the pockets of a murder victim, it puts a new spin on an old investigation.
“Cope” as he is called, has troubling coping with the revelation. The latest victim has old scar – one the prosecutor recognizes from twenty years ago – and, he thinks, if one person could survive that night, then…
Credit Coben’s writing style for drawing readers into the story with the same gullibility as marks watching a game of three-card-monte. You put your money down and believe you can follow the shifting cards, then – Pow! – he’s gotcha. One person says this, another says that. Who is telling the truth?
Maybe, no one.
In most of Coben’s stand-alone novels (those not part of the Myron Bolitar series), an ordinary man has to dig out from extraordinary circumstances. In many ways, this book is a departure. The county prosecutor is a buddy of the governor and has his own political ambitions. Hardly Joe-next-door.
There are no variations on Coben’s pacing.
This book is hard to put down – another credit to the writing – and it is only after closing the cover that some of the elements of “The Woods” come back to haunt. While the curtain is up and the lights are on though, Coben is a master of misdirection.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Nevada Barr the Door!
Tea Shoppe mysteries. Scrapbook mysteries. Cat Who mysteries. Whodunits are either light and breezy – humorous treatment of the dearly departed – or, the police procedural, in which the clues are swept up, sealed into envelopes, and suspects are grilled under glaring bright lamps.
Nevada Barr’s series of park ranger mysteries offer a little of both and a lot of neither.
Anna Pigeon is the pseudo-detective, who – from her position as a National Parks employee – runs into all sorts of misdeeds in protected parks around the country.
In “Blood Lure,” Anna Pigeon heads to the Glacier National Park to learn more about the resident bear population, but is barely (so to speak) in the high country before a body is discovered in the forest. Rangers, who worry about the reputation of their natural-born residents, first suspect that a bear has gone bad, but evidence points in another direction.
The suspects wander in and out, using different trails. Anna Pigeon, (who presumably does not watch horror movies) heads off into a distant area all alone. Not good, Anna.
As with all series books, first-name references abound without any explanation as to how they figure into Anna Pigeon’s life, and first time readers will have to learn which names do not figure into the story at all. Those with the slightest Sherlock-ian skills will have this one deduced early on, and others with lesser patience may enjoy “Blood Lure” better starting at the last paragraphs of chapter one, and skipping the bear-baiting lesson altogether.
Author Barr has a grand following, and perhaps in the just-released hardback “Winter Study” Anna Pigeon is less grumpy, more tolerant, and agreeably inclined toward her co-workers. Of course, characters – real or fiction – can hit low spots now and then.
Who hasn’t growled, bear-like, before that first cup of coffee?
Nevada Barr’s series of park ranger mysteries offer a little of both and a lot of neither.
Anna Pigeon is the pseudo-detective, who – from her position as a National Parks employee – runs into all sorts of misdeeds in protected parks around the country.
In “Blood Lure,” Anna Pigeon heads to the Glacier National Park to learn more about the resident bear population, but is barely (so to speak) in the high country before a body is discovered in the forest. Rangers, who worry about the reputation of their natural-born residents, first suspect that a bear has gone bad, but evidence points in another direction.
The suspects wander in and out, using different trails. Anna Pigeon, (who presumably does not watch horror movies) heads off into a distant area all alone. Not good, Anna.
As with all series books, first-name references abound without any explanation as to how they figure into Anna Pigeon’s life, and first time readers will have to learn which names do not figure into the story at all. Those with the slightest Sherlock-ian skills will have this one deduced early on, and others with lesser patience may enjoy “Blood Lure” better starting at the last paragraphs of chapter one, and skipping the bear-baiting lesson altogether.
Author Barr has a grand following, and perhaps in the just-released hardback “Winter Study” Anna Pigeon is less grumpy, more tolerant, and agreeably inclined toward her co-workers. Of course, characters – real or fiction – can hit low spots now and then.
Who hasn’t growled, bear-like, before that first cup of coffee?
Monday, June 2, 2008
The Unquiet: a THRILLER!
The claim is right on the cover. “The Unquiet,” a thriller. The blurb on the front vows that John Connolly is “one of the best thriller writers we have.”
Apparently, a “thriller” involves a crisis of epic proportions. If it’s just a guy and his family who have been kidnapped – that’s “suspense.” It’s clear enough until you factor in the Hollow Men, Connolly’s ghostly specters that inch eerily toward “horror” writing.
“The Unquiet” features detective Charlie “Bird” Parker, one of those series investigators with a troubled background. Some private eyes make the right moves, in time. Parker arrives late, at times.
A woman is being stalked, and Parker quickly finds there’s more to the story. The woman’s father – a child psychiatrist whose patient disappears – had been linked to a seedy exploitation ring just before he disappears. A detective sent to find him also disappears. Parker must find them all.
The stalker (only he’s not the Stalker, he’s the Revenger. Connolly uses one-word nicknames in “The Unquiet,” which also features the Collector and the Guesser) – anyway, the Stalker/Revenger is a really, really bad guy, just out of prison, who wants justice for his vanished daughter.
For a rural area of Maine, the results have to be akin to all of the Roaring Twenties gangland hits occurring on a single day in New York.
Connolly is described as writing poetic prose, which is usually a euphemism for being “wordy,” but there truly are some poetic lines and images scattered throughout. There is also a “poetic” section about Maine’s early-day explorers who ventured into Canada, a history included just to describe the woods.
“The Unquiet” is a – well, it’s a thriller, if you reduce it to a single word, something that author John Connolly generally avoids in bringing along his otherwise gripping story.
Check out the store!
McHuston Booksellers
Apparently, a “thriller” involves a crisis of epic proportions. If it’s just a guy and his family who have been kidnapped – that’s “suspense.” It’s clear enough until you factor in the Hollow Men, Connolly’s ghostly specters that inch eerily toward “horror” writing.
“The Unquiet” features detective Charlie “Bird” Parker, one of those series investigators with a troubled background. Some private eyes make the right moves, in time. Parker arrives late, at times.
A woman is being stalked, and Parker quickly finds there’s more to the story. The woman’s father – a child psychiatrist whose patient disappears – had been linked to a seedy exploitation ring just before he disappears. A detective sent to find him also disappears. Parker must find them all.
The stalker (only he’s not the Stalker, he’s the Revenger. Connolly uses one-word nicknames in “The Unquiet,” which also features the Collector and the Guesser) – anyway, the Stalker/Revenger is a really, really bad guy, just out of prison, who wants justice for his vanished daughter.
For a rural area of Maine, the results have to be akin to all of the Roaring Twenties gangland hits occurring on a single day in New York.
Connolly is described as writing poetic prose, which is usually a euphemism for being “wordy,” but there truly are some poetic lines and images scattered throughout. There is also a “poetic” section about Maine’s early-day explorers who ventured into Canada, a history included just to describe the woods.
“The Unquiet” is a – well, it’s a thriller, if you reduce it to a single word, something that author John Connolly generally avoids in bringing along his otherwise gripping story.
Check out the store!
McHuston Booksellers
Monday, May 19, 2008
COYOTE WAITS
There is a certain appeal in books that feature Native American culture. From a practical standpoint – there just aren’t that many. Then there is the nagging feeling that much of the culture being explained in the telling of the story are things Americans should already know, especially those of us in Oklahoma, where Tony Hillerman was born.
His settings are west of the state line, and Hillerman uses Navaho tradition to provide the characters for his series of Southwestern mystery novels. Tribal Police Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee are regulars, and in “Coyote Waits” the two take different routes while investigating the death of a fellow officer.
It’s almost soothing to hear the Navaho philosophy as Hillerman spins it. Every conversation carries some traditional observation, but his dialogues ring true, as though he has kept a chair vacant to allow his readers to sit and eavesdrop on the story.
Most mysteries include numerous suspects, required red herrings, and a surprise revelation at the end, but “Coyote Waits” provides an almost caught-red-handed suspect in a Navaho shaman. There are some doubts, though, and before you can say yaa ah t’eeh (hello in Navaho…) Chee and Leaphorn uncover others with credible motives.
Hillerman has a legion of fans, and enough awards to build a ceremonial pyre. With last year’s release of “Shapeshifter” there are eighteen stories built from his knowledge of the Arizona/New Mexico landscape. He manages to construct his fictional world in a way that readers don’t have to read every book in a special order, while managing a continuing story line.
In the Navaho spirit world, “Coyote” is an evil presence and “Coyote Waits” hoping to satisfy its ever-present hunger. In the world of mystery stories, it’s a fact that “Reader Waits,” while Hillerman pens his next satisfying offering.
His settings are west of the state line, and Hillerman uses Navaho tradition to provide the characters for his series of Southwestern mystery novels. Tribal Police Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee are regulars, and in “Coyote Waits” the two take different routes while investigating the death of a fellow officer.
It’s almost soothing to hear the Navaho philosophy as Hillerman spins it. Every conversation carries some traditional observation, but his dialogues ring true, as though he has kept a chair vacant to allow his readers to sit and eavesdrop on the story.
Most mysteries include numerous suspects, required red herrings, and a surprise revelation at the end, but “Coyote Waits” provides an almost caught-red-handed suspect in a Navaho shaman. There are some doubts, though, and before you can say yaa ah t’eeh (hello in Navaho…) Chee and Leaphorn uncover others with credible motives.
Hillerman has a legion of fans, and enough awards to build a ceremonial pyre. With last year’s release of “Shapeshifter” there are eighteen stories built from his knowledge of the Arizona/New Mexico landscape. He manages to construct his fictional world in a way that readers don’t have to read every book in a special order, while managing a continuing story line.
In the Navaho spirit world, “Coyote” is an evil presence and “Coyote Waits” hoping to satisfy its ever-present hunger. In the world of mystery stories, it’s a fact that “Reader Waits,” while Hillerman pens his next satisfying offering.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Watching the Watchmaker
A “Cold Moon” is the one that circles the earth during the winter months, like the “Harvest Moon” does in late fall. In the hands of suspense writer Jeffery Deaver, “The Cold Moon” circles around a cruelly-evil serial killer who calls himself the Watchmaker.
Deaver’s novels follow the crime-fighting forensics team of Lincoln Rhyme and Amelia Sachs, the former being a near-genius investigator who is wheelchair bound as a result of a job-related paralysis. (In earlier books, Rhyme is confined to bed.) The footwork at the crime scenes is provided by Sachs, who stays in contact with her partner by way of a special radio headset.
They’ve worked a number of cases together, “The Bone Collector” being the first and perhaps best-known, from the movie adaptation. Over the years, Deaver has introduced readers to enough background about his stars that they seem like members of the family.
The Watchmaker is so good (read that “evil”) that he leaves few clues, and the forensics skills of the crime team need a little super-interrogating assistance. Enter Kathryn Dance, a California investigator whose specialty is getting to the facts. No waterboarding here, it’s more like a tingly-spiderman-sense-thing. She knows a fib when she hears it, and she ferrets out the truth just like your mother did when the antique lamp turned up broken.
The Dance character is so strong that Deaver made her the primary player in his next hardback and plans to alternate his writing between Dance and Rhyme. In the meantime, he continues to layer on the depth of his characters, and in “The Cold Moon,” Amelia Sachs faces enough hard truths that she considers leaving the force.
Holmes without Watson? Rhyme without Sachs? Rhyme without Reason? In the case of “The Cold Moon” and the Watchmaker, only time will tell.
Deaver’s novels follow the crime-fighting forensics team of Lincoln Rhyme and Amelia Sachs, the former being a near-genius investigator who is wheelchair bound as a result of a job-related paralysis. (In earlier books, Rhyme is confined to bed.) The footwork at the crime scenes is provided by Sachs, who stays in contact with her partner by way of a special radio headset.
They’ve worked a number of cases together, “The Bone Collector” being the first and perhaps best-known, from the movie adaptation. Over the years, Deaver has introduced readers to enough background about his stars that they seem like members of the family.
The Watchmaker is so good (read that “evil”) that he leaves few clues, and the forensics skills of the crime team need a little super-interrogating assistance. Enter Kathryn Dance, a California investigator whose specialty is getting to the facts. No waterboarding here, it’s more like a tingly-spiderman-sense-thing. She knows a fib when she hears it, and she ferrets out the truth just like your mother did when the antique lamp turned up broken.
The Dance character is so strong that Deaver made her the primary player in his next hardback and plans to alternate his writing between Dance and Rhyme. In the meantime, he continues to layer on the depth of his characters, and in “The Cold Moon,” Amelia Sachs faces enough hard truths that she considers leaving the force.
Holmes without Watson? Rhyme without Sachs? Rhyme without Reason? In the case of “The Cold Moon” and the Watchmaker, only time will tell.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Fresh (and tasty) Disasters
The last Stuart Woods book I tried was started after dinner and finished before bedtime. I’m a fast reader.
But not that fast!
Taking on “Fresh Disasters,” I figured out why the Stone Barrington novels are such quick reads. A new chapter starts every three to four pages, and only half a page is printed at each chapter start.
Then, there’s the dialogue. The conversations are quick quips between old friends (it’s the 13th Barrington novel) and with each line is an indented paragraph. With page after page of two and three word exchanges, there just aren’t that many words to consume.
Reading “Fresh Disasters” is like watching television from the other room. It’s all talk and not a lot of visual information. The condo building is “new, very skinny, one apartment to a floor.” The imagination has to fill in the rest, and the mental images come from spoken descriptions, like when the hapless client calls the men chasing him “gorillas,” and identifies them as Goon and Gus.
Stone Barrington is the ultra-suave lawyer, whose latest case has him taking on a NYC mobster, who is after a scrawny, repulsive little deadbeat. Readers of Janet Evanovich’s “Stephanie Plum” mystery series will recognize the formula and stereotypical characters. But hey. It works.
In fact, it has done so well for Woods that another Stone Barrington novel is due in May, the paperback version of last fall’s “Shoot Him if He Runs.” The speedy reads might give you time to chew through the entire series before its release.
The quick banter between the likable characters makes “Fresh Disasters” a fun and easy morsel to devour, the way a tray of tasty party appetizers disappears before the main course arrives. What? There’s no main course? That’s okay, we’re all stuffed with cheesy cracker snacks.
But not that fast!
Taking on “Fresh Disasters,” I figured out why the Stone Barrington novels are such quick reads. A new chapter starts every three to four pages, and only half a page is printed at each chapter start.
Then, there’s the dialogue. The conversations are quick quips between old friends (it’s the 13th Barrington novel) and with each line is an indented paragraph. With page after page of two and three word exchanges, there just aren’t that many words to consume.
Reading “Fresh Disasters” is like watching television from the other room. It’s all talk and not a lot of visual information. The condo building is “new, very skinny, one apartment to a floor.” The imagination has to fill in the rest, and the mental images come from spoken descriptions, like when the hapless client calls the men chasing him “gorillas,” and identifies them as Goon and Gus.
Stone Barrington is the ultra-suave lawyer, whose latest case has him taking on a NYC mobster, who is after a scrawny, repulsive little deadbeat. Readers of Janet Evanovich’s “Stephanie Plum” mystery series will recognize the formula and stereotypical characters. But hey. It works.
In fact, it has done so well for Woods that another Stone Barrington novel is due in May, the paperback version of last fall’s “Shoot Him if He Runs.” The speedy reads might give you time to chew through the entire series before its release.
The quick banter between the likable characters makes “Fresh Disasters” a fun and easy morsel to devour, the way a tray of tasty party appetizers disappears before the main course arrives. What? There’s no main course? That’s okay, we’re all stuffed with cheesy cracker snacks.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Never Look Back: Ooops, I did!
It might be great advice – to follow the admonition of Ridley Pearson’s first novel, “Never Look Back.” After all, who wants to remember drivers before cell-phones, teenagers without iPods, and television without CSI?
Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t such a bad time.
It was back when the bad guy in a story could come from a Soviet-bloc country and readers immediately gave a shiver. Ooh. Baaaad guy. In “Never Look Back,” Pearson relies on that sentiment to give dimension to his evil-doer, but – looking back on it – the Villain comes across more like Boris Badenov in the long-gone Bullwinkle cartoon series. (Anyone remember that No Goodnik?)
The flipside is, long before terrorism became a North American threat, Ridley Pearson wrote a believable scenario in which a series of attacks knocks out communications all across Canada as part of an assassination plot. The Good against Evil plot and the resulting chase hold up nicely, and there are no head-knocking technology references that many stories of the period suffer. There are some stops at payphones, but hey! – most people still remember those.
It’s safe to assume that writers improve with experience, and Pearson has a new suspense novel out this summer, and a just released young reader suspense story. He has developed a loyal following of readers and one of his tales has made it to the movie theaters.
The mark of a good story is how well it holds up through time – and for lovers of espionage in the Robert Ludlum vein, it’s worth going against the author’s advice to “Never Look Back,” – to take in the start of an author’s successful journey.
Rest assured, there’s no Natasha and no Fearless Leader (even if there IS “bomb in squirrel’s briefcase…”), and – of course – Rocky saves the day.
Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t such a bad time.
It was back when the bad guy in a story could come from a Soviet-bloc country and readers immediately gave a shiver. Ooh. Baaaad guy. In “Never Look Back,” Pearson relies on that sentiment to give dimension to his evil-doer, but – looking back on it – the Villain comes across more like Boris Badenov in the long-gone Bullwinkle cartoon series. (Anyone remember that No Goodnik?)
The flipside is, long before terrorism became a North American threat, Ridley Pearson wrote a believable scenario in which a series of attacks knocks out communications all across Canada as part of an assassination plot. The Good against Evil plot and the resulting chase hold up nicely, and there are no head-knocking technology references that many stories of the period suffer. There are some stops at payphones, but hey! – most people still remember those.
It’s safe to assume that writers improve with experience, and Pearson has a new suspense novel out this summer, and a just released young reader suspense story. He has developed a loyal following of readers and one of his tales has made it to the movie theaters.
The mark of a good story is how well it holds up through time – and for lovers of espionage in the Robert Ludlum vein, it’s worth going against the author’s advice to “Never Look Back,” – to take in the start of an author’s successful journey.
Rest assured, there’s no Natasha and no Fearless Leader (even if there IS “bomb in squirrel’s briefcase…”), and – of course – Rocky saves the day.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Back to the Jungle!
Douglas Preston is half of the thriller-writing team of “Preston and Child,” and is more prolific than partner Lincoln Child. Preston is currently touring the country promoting Blasphemy, his latest solo work set in the American southwest. Can’t wait for the paperback? Try on The Codex, the author’s latest.
Preston has a rollicking story set in the jungles of Honduras that could be the twin brother of Amazonia by James Rollins, although his smattering of misspelled Spanish is proof that Preston is more comfortable in the Tex-Mex American Southwest. Among other errors, buenos tardes (good afternoon) is actually spelled with an A, as in buenas. No big deal. Good afternaan. (It is a little off-putting misspelled in English, isn’t it?)
Eccentric billionaire Max Broadbent has a fatal illness and has traveled to the jungle to die, but wants to take his treasure with him. He does leave his three sons the option to come and get it – if they want it. Not surprisingly, they do. Somewhat surprisingly, the codex of the title is an ancient key to all the pharmaceutical uses of rainforest plants, the same mission undertaken in Amazonia. Both books feature the attractive female, the strong straight-shooter, the evil maniac who wants to derail the whole mission for personal gain. Jungle dangers. Snakes.
Fans will have no problem ignoring some of the implausible elements, since Preston opens the throttle on his jungle chase and keeps up the pace throughout – never taking the ride too seriously and even tossing in some well-placed humor as the three sons set out to retrieve their inheritance.
There are books that are worth laboring through to the end, and then there are those like The Codex in which the end seems to come along altogether too quickly. It’s un libro bueno. (One good book!)
Preston has a rollicking story set in the jungles of Honduras that could be the twin brother of Amazonia by James Rollins, although his smattering of misspelled Spanish is proof that Preston is more comfortable in the Tex-Mex American Southwest. Among other errors, buenos tardes (good afternoon) is actually spelled with an A, as in buenas. No big deal. Good afternaan. (It is a little off-putting misspelled in English, isn’t it?)
Eccentric billionaire Max Broadbent has a fatal illness and has traveled to the jungle to die, but wants to take his treasure with him. He does leave his three sons the option to come and get it – if they want it. Not surprisingly, they do. Somewhat surprisingly, the codex of the title is an ancient key to all the pharmaceutical uses of rainforest plants, the same mission undertaken in Amazonia. Both books feature the attractive female, the strong straight-shooter, the evil maniac who wants to derail the whole mission for personal gain. Jungle dangers. Snakes.
Fans will have no problem ignoring some of the implausible elements, since Preston opens the throttle on his jungle chase and keeps up the pace throughout – never taking the ride too seriously and even tossing in some well-placed humor as the three sons set out to retrieve their inheritance.
There are books that are worth laboring through to the end, and then there are those like The Codex in which the end seems to come along altogether too quickly. It’s un libro bueno. (One good book!)
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Collectors
Clark Kent lives in Metropolis – which we all recognize as a fictional place – and, knowing that, we can go along with anything that happens there, like the way that simply slipping on a pair of eyeglasses hides the secret identity of Superman.
David Baldacci sets his thriller “The Collectors” in Washington DC, and since we know that place exists, it is a little more difficult to accept those single-bound leaps beyond believability.
Bringing back the eclectic Camel Club from a previous novel, Baldacci sends the aging protagonists on the trail of a spy ring. Members of the informal group, led by a former CIA hit-man who now calls himself Oliver Stone, are little more than misfits, but the ex-spy keeps them on the trail by pulling clues out of thin air, the way many fictional detectives manage to do.
The second storyline is too strong to be called a sub-plot, and might have made a better stand-alone book. The daughter of a career conman sets out to scam the casino owner responsible for her mother’s death. Unfortunately, the book ends with the casino owner on his way to exact his revenge for the theft of his money, a cliff-hanger for the obvious sequel.
Meanwhile, the Camel Club detectives finally discover that a coworker has been donning a hat and a fake beard and completely fooling everyone as to his identity. While comic book readers have accepted the Clark Kent glasses disguise for decades, it is pretty hard to believe that a US Government employee can’t recognize a long-term coworker wearing a silly hat and fake beard.
Still, his writing style is compelling, and the eccentric characters are a hoot. It’s too bad Baldacci didn’t split the book into two separate stories, but readers know that’s exactly what sequels are for.
David Baldacci sets his thriller “The Collectors” in Washington DC, and since we know that place exists, it is a little more difficult to accept those single-bound leaps beyond believability.
Bringing back the eclectic Camel Club from a previous novel, Baldacci sends the aging protagonists on the trail of a spy ring. Members of the informal group, led by a former CIA hit-man who now calls himself Oliver Stone, are little more than misfits, but the ex-spy keeps them on the trail by pulling clues out of thin air, the way many fictional detectives manage to do.
The second storyline is too strong to be called a sub-plot, and might have made a better stand-alone book. The daughter of a career conman sets out to scam the casino owner responsible for her mother’s death. Unfortunately, the book ends with the casino owner on his way to exact his revenge for the theft of his money, a cliff-hanger for the obvious sequel.
Meanwhile, the Camel Club detectives finally discover that a coworker has been donning a hat and a fake beard and completely fooling everyone as to his identity. While comic book readers have accepted the Clark Kent glasses disguise for decades, it is pretty hard to believe that a US Government employee can’t recognize a long-term coworker wearing a silly hat and fake beard.
Still, his writing style is compelling, and the eccentric characters are a hoot. It’s too bad Baldacci didn’t split the book into two separate stories, but readers know that’s exactly what sequels are for.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Amazonia
Those of us who are video-game challenged have action author James Rollins, who provides slam-bang, over-the-top, Indiana-Jones style stories with more gobbling-up than a vintage Pacman.
In fact, Rollins has penned the novelization of the latest Indiana Jones movie, a paperback due in May, and in Amazonia he demonstrates why he is suited for that task.
Like the great action stories, Amazonia features a trip into the deepest, darkest regions of the rainforest, a sort of fountain-of-youth expedition on behalf of a pharmaceutical company. The mission begins when a member of a failed previous mission walks out of the jungle after being missing for years.
The thing is – he went into the jungle as an amputee, and stumbled out four years later having re-grown his lost arm.
There is a fortune waiting for whoever discovers the source of the medical miracle, and two pharmaceutical companies send in teams, with the second led – naturally – by a psychopath who will stop at nothing to steal whatever the first team finds.
Rollins crafts his quest with one chase after another, with the unfortunate first expedition falling victim to giant caimans (those alligator-like snappers), land-roving piranhas, panthers, a plague of locusts, and poison dart blowguns.
There is almost a videogame quality to the way the poor souls are dispatched, but Rollins keeps the action fast and furious, and it is nearly impossible to put the book down, even if some of the events have an eye-rolling outlandishness. (I couldn’t figure out why the psychopathic second-expedition leader had to blow up the source of the miracle-cure after obtaining only the tiniest quantity. The drug company might have bought it by the barrel!)
The book is a barrel of fun, regardless, and readers will likely begin a quest to read the rest of Rollins’ full-of-action adventures.
In fact, Rollins has penned the novelization of the latest Indiana Jones movie, a paperback due in May, and in Amazonia he demonstrates why he is suited for that task.
Like the great action stories, Amazonia features a trip into the deepest, darkest regions of the rainforest, a sort of fountain-of-youth expedition on behalf of a pharmaceutical company. The mission begins when a member of a failed previous mission walks out of the jungle after being missing for years.
The thing is – he went into the jungle as an amputee, and stumbled out four years later having re-grown his lost arm.
There is a fortune waiting for whoever discovers the source of the medical miracle, and two pharmaceutical companies send in teams, with the second led – naturally – by a psychopath who will stop at nothing to steal whatever the first team finds.
Rollins crafts his quest with one chase after another, with the unfortunate first expedition falling victim to giant caimans (those alligator-like snappers), land-roving piranhas, panthers, a plague of locusts, and poison dart blowguns.
There is almost a videogame quality to the way the poor souls are dispatched, but Rollins keeps the action fast and furious, and it is nearly impossible to put the book down, even if some of the events have an eye-rolling outlandishness. (I couldn’t figure out why the psychopathic second-expedition leader had to blow up the source of the miracle-cure after obtaining only the tiniest quantity. The drug company might have bought it by the barrel!)
The book is a barrel of fun, regardless, and readers will likely begin a quest to read the rest of Rollins’ full-of-action adventures.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Not a Bad Bool, just...
It’s not particularly new anymore, but it was when I started it. I’ve finally made it through Lisey’s Story, the Stephen King offering that Nora Roberts has called a haunting romance. She says she loved it.
I believe it might have been a better book if she had written it.
Without question, King has earned the right to pen novels however he likes, and some of his quirks are assumedly stylistic traits. Readers have varying tastes as well, accommodating terse writers like Lee Child, whose action story might begin:
There were three men. One was a killer. The two with guns would be victims in a matter of minutes.
If that first sentence alone had been included in Lisey’s Story it would have sounded more like:
There might have been a question as to exactly how many men (if they were men at all, but you can be assured – yes, you can! – that they were indeed men) were at the point at which they intended to be. At least, they were pretty sure they were there. Truth be told (if you can handle the truth…) it was a trio, that is to say, there were three of them.
You get the idea.
Lee Child’s description of the book might read: A writer’s widow faces trouble. Buys a gun. Travels to a secret world to get power. Boom. No more trouble.
Obviously, there is more to it than that, but if King’s invented words and parenthetical insights were eliminated, Lisey’s Story might be closer to “Lisey’s Short Story.” It isn’t a bad bool (I mean book, “bool” is one of King’s invented terms…), it’s simply one in need of a reader who enjoys the constant forays into the thinking processes of the characters, a reader with patience.
Or a good skimmer.
I believe it might have been a better book if she had written it.
Without question, King has earned the right to pen novels however he likes, and some of his quirks are assumedly stylistic traits. Readers have varying tastes as well, accommodating terse writers like Lee Child, whose action story might begin:
There were three men. One was a killer. The two with guns would be victims in a matter of minutes.
If that first sentence alone had been included in Lisey’s Story it would have sounded more like:
There might have been a question as to exactly how many men (if they were men at all, but you can be assured – yes, you can! – that they were indeed men) were at the point at which they intended to be. At least, they were pretty sure they were there. Truth be told (if you can handle the truth…) it was a trio, that is to say, there were three of them.
You get the idea.
Lee Child’s description of the book might read: A writer’s widow faces trouble. Buys a gun. Travels to a secret world to get power. Boom. No more trouble.
Obviously, there is more to it than that, but if King’s invented words and parenthetical insights were eliminated, Lisey’s Story might be closer to “Lisey’s Short Story.” It isn’t a bad bool (I mean book, “bool” is one of King’s invented terms…), it’s simply one in need of a reader who enjoys the constant forays into the thinking processes of the characters, a reader with patience.
Or a good skimmer.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Crichton's NEXT
Imagine this. You friend is telling an entertaining story. A bird flies up and begins to quote Shakespeare, sing county music, and mimic the voice of Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry.
More than likely, you’d quickly find yourself listening more to the bird and less to your friend.
“Next,” Michael Crichton’s latest techno-thriller is a lot like that. He tells a story so well that Hollywood makes movies of them, stories like Jurassic Park and Andromeda Strain. He takes a scientific principle, like dinosaur DNA or deadly virus, and puts it to the fictional test.
“Next” tackles the human genetic code, and to lessen the burden of that weighty and ethical subject, Crichton introduces nearly three dozen named characters and – seemingly – just as many subplots. One of those subplots introduces Gerard the talking bird, who flies in and invites the reader’s attention span to fly out.
The plot centers around a scientist involved in an experiment that has human DNA injected into a chimpanzee. Later, he discovers that the chimp not only survived the experiment, but gave birth to a DNA-enhanced child that talks like a boy, thinks like a boy, and – cleaned up with a haircut, blue jeans and a soccer jersey – looks just like a chimp with a haircut, blue jeans and a soccer jersey.
Or, maybe the plots centers around the president of a foundering genetics lab who’ll do anything to save his company. Or, the single-mom attorney chasing down her son’s kidnappers. Or, the bounty hunter and his assistant. Or, the aging billionaire philanthropist.
You get the idea.
Amazingly enough, Crichton’s style keeps the pages turning, even if it isn’t clear which name goes with what character. “Next” is fun, and funny, with enough of the author’s research facts mixed in to provoke some actual thinking.
More than likely, you’d quickly find yourself listening more to the bird and less to your friend.
“Next,” Michael Crichton’s latest techno-thriller is a lot like that. He tells a story so well that Hollywood makes movies of them, stories like Jurassic Park and Andromeda Strain. He takes a scientific principle, like dinosaur DNA or deadly virus, and puts it to the fictional test.
“Next” tackles the human genetic code, and to lessen the burden of that weighty and ethical subject, Crichton introduces nearly three dozen named characters and – seemingly – just as many subplots. One of those subplots introduces Gerard the talking bird, who flies in and invites the reader’s attention span to fly out.
The plot centers around a scientist involved in an experiment that has human DNA injected into a chimpanzee. Later, he discovers that the chimp not only survived the experiment, but gave birth to a DNA-enhanced child that talks like a boy, thinks like a boy, and – cleaned up with a haircut, blue jeans and a soccer jersey – looks just like a chimp with a haircut, blue jeans and a soccer jersey.
Or, maybe the plots centers around the president of a foundering genetics lab who’ll do anything to save his company. Or, the single-mom attorney chasing down her son’s kidnappers. Or, the bounty hunter and his assistant. Or, the aging billionaire philanthropist.
You get the idea.
Amazingly enough, Crichton’s style keeps the pages turning, even if it isn’t clear which name goes with what character. “Next” is fun, and funny, with enough of the author’s research facts mixed in to provoke some actual thinking.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Cussler Machine
The machine is large, and cranked into high gear. The exact design isn’t clear, but it’s probably shaped like an antique aquatic car, and powered by a twelve cylinder, 3,760 horsepower marine diesel. From a specialized conveyor belt jutting out from the side comes book, after book, after book. The machine is the Cussler.
Clive, to be more specific.
He’s probably America’s number-one action author, and is responsible for three different action lines – with heroes Dirk Pitt, Kurt Austin, and Juan Cabrillo. There are a couple of titles just out and several due this year from Clive Cussler, Paul Kemprecos, and Jack Du Brul, the three men primarily responsible for the action-output.
“Polar Shift” has been out long enough to find in paperback. It’s a Kurt Austin adventure with Paul Kemprecos doing the bulk of the writing. To his credit, he is able to maintain the flying-at-the-edge-of-believability quality of Cussler’s style, and duplicates the wise-cracking, pulp-fiction dialogue that fans have come to expect.
A group of well-funded bad guys have invented a giant spark plug that they dangle from a huge ship, and when they throw the switch, it creates tidal waves, boat-sucking whirlpools, electrical flares, radioactive rays, a shifting of the earth’s crust over the core, and car chases. (To be honest, the car chases are an indirect result.) The pretty archeologist is threatened by thugs, the dwarf wooly mammoths are threatened with extinction, and it falls to Kurt to save the day.
Cussler novels have long been filled with technical jargon. The bad guy never wields a rifle. He’s usually described as having a gas-operated Automat Kalashnikova modernized AK-47 7.62mm with machined receiver capable of 600 rounds per minute. The pilot never flies a simple airplane; it’s always the same lengthy description.
Kemprecos manages to tone down the internet-driven descriptions and keep the fiction moving at a Cussler-inspired pace, and fans will find familiar lines and action a’ plenty…enough to satisfy until the next unit is ejected from the machine.
Clive, to be more specific.
He’s probably America’s number-one action author, and is responsible for three different action lines – with heroes Dirk Pitt, Kurt Austin, and Juan Cabrillo. There are a couple of titles just out and several due this year from Clive Cussler, Paul Kemprecos, and Jack Du Brul, the three men primarily responsible for the action-output.
“Polar Shift” has been out long enough to find in paperback. It’s a Kurt Austin adventure with Paul Kemprecos doing the bulk of the writing. To his credit, he is able to maintain the flying-at-the-edge-of-believability quality of Cussler’s style, and duplicates the wise-cracking, pulp-fiction dialogue that fans have come to expect.
A group of well-funded bad guys have invented a giant spark plug that they dangle from a huge ship, and when they throw the switch, it creates tidal waves, boat-sucking whirlpools, electrical flares, radioactive rays, a shifting of the earth’s crust over the core, and car chases. (To be honest, the car chases are an indirect result.) The pretty archeologist is threatened by thugs, the dwarf wooly mammoths are threatened with extinction, and it falls to Kurt to save the day.
Cussler novels have long been filled with technical jargon. The bad guy never wields a rifle. He’s usually described as having a gas-operated Automat Kalashnikova modernized AK-47 7.62mm with machined receiver capable of 600 rounds per minute. The pilot never flies a simple airplane; it’s always the same lengthy description.
Kemprecos manages to tone down the internet-driven descriptions and keep the fiction moving at a Cussler-inspired pace, and fans will find familiar lines and action a’ plenty…enough to satisfy until the next unit is ejected from the machine.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Break No Bones
Time to break out the shovels and dig into the latest Temperance Brennan suspense story. Tempe, as she is called, is the forensic pathologist creation of novelist Kathy Reichs, who writes her crime stories in a way that would do CSI proud.
In “Break No Bones,” Doctor Brennan is teaching an archeology class, and finds recent bones at the ancient site. The county coroner is deathly ill, so it’s up to Tempe to prescribe an ID for the victim.
Forensic pathologists will revel in the graphic detail given to the cutting, slicing, and dicing in the procedures – the rest of us can look up the medical terminology or skip over the passages. (It’s forgiven just like looking away when the CSI gets up-close and personal in TV autopsies.) In fact, if you’ve seen “Bones” on the Fox network, you’ve been watching Doctor B at work.
“Break No Bones” is the ninth book in her series, but Reichs manages to seamlessly present the backstory, allowing first-time readers to keep up with seasoned fans, and Tempe is a down-to-earth character with a real-life outside the morgue.
The story involves a free health clinic in South Carolina, a missing private eye, and bodies that begin turning up as regularly as Southern hospitality. It doesn’t take much detective work to figure out what is going on, but that may be a good thing, since Tempe is more of a Watson than a Holmes. She huffs and blusters, and in the end, the crime gets solved.
Fans of Patricia Cornwell will find an updated heroine. Especially if short sentences appeal. And clause fragments. Really.
Even for those who’d rather be outside while the autopsy is on, Reichs provides a solid story, a believable character, and an understanding of the science that brings it all together.
In “Break No Bones,” Doctor Brennan is teaching an archeology class, and finds recent bones at the ancient site. The county coroner is deathly ill, so it’s up to Tempe to prescribe an ID for the victim.
Forensic pathologists will revel in the graphic detail given to the cutting, slicing, and dicing in the procedures – the rest of us can look up the medical terminology or skip over the passages. (It’s forgiven just like looking away when the CSI gets up-close and personal in TV autopsies.) In fact, if you’ve seen “Bones” on the Fox network, you’ve been watching Doctor B at work.
“Break No Bones” is the ninth book in her series, but Reichs manages to seamlessly present the backstory, allowing first-time readers to keep up with seasoned fans, and Tempe is a down-to-earth character with a real-life outside the morgue.
The story involves a free health clinic in South Carolina, a missing private eye, and bodies that begin turning up as regularly as Southern hospitality. It doesn’t take much detective work to figure out what is going on, but that may be a good thing, since Tempe is more of a Watson than a Holmes. She huffs and blusters, and in the end, the crime gets solved.
Fans of Patricia Cornwell will find an updated heroine. Especially if short sentences appeal. And clause fragments. Really.
Even for those who’d rather be outside while the autopsy is on, Reichs provides a solid story, a believable character, and an understanding of the science that brings it all together.
The Alexandria Link
Don't ask suspense author Steve Berry why his secret-agent character is nicknamed "Cotton."
In his latest Da Vinci style thriller, Berry makes a point of saying it's "a long story." If the explanation is longer than "The Alexandria Link" it's no wonder readers are left guessing. At 500 pages, there should be plenty of time for character basics (like their nicknames) - but Berry relies on Action! Action! Action! in chasing down the lost library at Alexandria, a collection of scrolls that disappeared 1,500 years ago.
The premise that the library still exists could make for an interesting book, but in "The Alexandria Link" the hunt is reduced to a series of cryptic scavenger hunt clues.
Plenty of readers will love Cotton Malone, a former agent for the U.S. Justice Department, who tired of the chase and settled down in Copenhagen to run a bookstore. (Berry also doesn't explain his character's decision to leave the US and his young son behind.)
His ex-wife no sooner appears in the shop claiming their son has been kidnapped, when the store explodes and the two are left clinging to an upper-story window ledge, arguing over their failed marriage.
Cotton Malone speaks several languages, has special agent weapons training and a photographic memory, but he doesn't recall a handgun with an ammunition clip is not a "revolver." He forgets his training too, particularly in removing his bullets so the gun will go Click, Click, Click and the enemy will stand up in triumph - the way they always do, presumably.
There's also a European business cartel in league with al Qaeda, a biblical mystery involving the major religions, a double-crossing government employee, and a plot to kill the US president.
As to the origin of Cotton Malone's nickname, Berry may be saving that for another five-hundred-page-thriller.
In his latest Da Vinci style thriller, Berry makes a point of saying it's "a long story." If the explanation is longer than "The Alexandria Link" it's no wonder readers are left guessing. At 500 pages, there should be plenty of time for character basics (like their nicknames) - but Berry relies on Action! Action! Action! in chasing down the lost library at Alexandria, a collection of scrolls that disappeared 1,500 years ago.
The premise that the library still exists could make for an interesting book, but in "The Alexandria Link" the hunt is reduced to a series of cryptic scavenger hunt clues.
Plenty of readers will love Cotton Malone, a former agent for the U.S. Justice Department, who tired of the chase and settled down in Copenhagen to run a bookstore. (Berry also doesn't explain his character's decision to leave the US and his young son behind.)
His ex-wife no sooner appears in the shop claiming their son has been kidnapped, when the store explodes and the two are left clinging to an upper-story window ledge, arguing over their failed marriage.
Cotton Malone speaks several languages, has special agent weapons training and a photographic memory, but he doesn't recall a handgun with an ammunition clip is not a "revolver." He forgets his training too, particularly in removing his bullets so the gun will go Click, Click, Click and the enemy will stand up in triumph - the way they always do, presumably.
There's also a European business cartel in league with al Qaeda, a biblical mystery involving the major religions, a double-crossing government employee, and a plot to kill the US president.
As to the origin of Cotton Malone's nickname, Berry may be saving that for another five-hundred-page-thriller.
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