Category: Authors Page 5 of 109

Towel Day ’23: Do You Know Where Your Towel Is?

(updated and revised this 5/25/23)

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has a few things to say on the subject of towels.

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Hence a phrase that has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in “Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There’s a frood who really knows where his towel is.” (Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)

Towel Day, for the few who don’t know, is the annual celebration of Douglas Adams’ life and work. It was first held two weeks after his death, fans were to carry a towel with them for the day to use as a talking point to encourage those who have never read HHGTTG to do so, or to just converse with someone about Adams. Adams is one of that handful of authors that I can’t imagine I’d be the same without having encountered/read/re-read/re-re-re-re-read, and so I do my best to pay a little tribute to him each year, even if it’s just carrying around a towel.

In commemoration of this date, here’s most of what I’ve written about Adams. I’ve struggled to come up with new material to share for Towel Day over the years, mostly sticking with updating and revising existing posts. But I do have a couple of new things coming today. But let’s start with the old material. A few years back, I did a re-read of all of Adams’ (completed) fiction. For reasons beyond my ken (or recollection), I didn’t get around to blogging about the Dirk Gently books, but I did do the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy:
bullet The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
bullet The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
bullet Life, The Universe and Everything
bullet So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish
bullet Mostly Harmless
bullet I had a thing or two to say about the 40th Anniversary of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
bullet I took a look at the 42nd Anniversary Illustrated Edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Also, I should mention the one book Adams/Hitchhiker’s aficionado needs to read is Don’t Panic by Neil Gaiman, David K. Dickson and MJ Simpson. If you’re more in the mood for a podcast, I’d suggest The Waterstones Podcast How We Made: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy—I’ve listened to several podcast episodes about this book, and generally roll my eyes at them. But this is just fantastic. Were it available, I’d listen to a Peter Jackson-length version of the episode.

I’ve only been able to get one of my sons into Adams, he’s the taller, thinner one in the picture from a few years ago.
(although I did get he and his younger siblings to use their towels to make themselves safe from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal a few years earlier:)

You really need to check out this comic from Sheldon Comics—part of the Anatomy of Authors series: The Anatomy of Douglas Adams.

Lit in a Nutshell gives this quick explanation of The Hitchiiker’s Guide:

TowelDay.org is the best collection of resources on the day. One of my favorite posts there is this pretty cool video, shot on the ISS by astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti.

Even better—here’s an appearance by Douglas Adams himself from the old Letterman show—I’m so glad someone preserved this:

Love the anecdote (Also, I want this tie.)

Backpacking Through Bedlam by Seanan McGuire: Now, Where Were We? Oh, Right…

Backpacking Through BedlamBackpacking Through Bedlam

by Seanan McGuire

DETAILS:
Series: InCryptid, #12
Publisher: Daw Books
Publication Date: March 07, 2023
Format: Trade Paperback
Length: 285 pg.
Read Date: March 30-April 3, 2023


Back to the Covenant Story

The first few books of this series featured an ongoing arc concerning the looming threat of an invasion of the Americas by The Covenant of St. George. In the fifth book, Chaos Choreography, Verity basically invited that invasion. In the next book, Antimony went undercover to infiltrate them in order to gather intel on the coming invasion—and we largely abandoned that storyline for the rest of the Antimony-trilogy (the Covenant was around, obviously, but other things seemed far more important most of the time). Then with the next three books, that storyline took a giant backseat and most of the action focused on non-Earthbound species and/or didn’t take place on Earth.

Now that Alice, Thomas, and Sally are back on Earth, we can rejoin the Covenant story, already in progress.

What’s Backpacking Through Bedlam About?

This is precisely what this novel is about—Alice trying to reintroduce Thomas and Sally to Earth (the latter will be far easier since she hasn’t been gone quite as long) while coming to fight alongside Verity’s ragtag “army” in New York to protect the dragon.

Thomas doesn’t have to just remember what Earth is like and catch up on a few decades worth of technological advances, political and cultural changes, etc.—he also has to get used to his wife again. They’ve both grown and changed—yes, still deeply in love and committed to each other. But…they’re not the same people they were when he left.

Meanwhile, Alice has to learn to accept Sally as the not-quite-adult-daughter she’s never met. And Sally has to figure out her place in her new family. All while Verity and the rest of the Prices are going to have to adjust to Thomas actually being alive.

And, yeah, they have to fight a war and protect as many cryptids as they can from the Covenant. Should be a walk in the park, right? Or maybe that’s where the titular Bedlam comes in.

So, what did I think about Backpacking Through Bedlam?

When Verity declared war, I remember being taken aback by it—but also thinking, “all right, now things will get really interesting!” Just for that to be pushed to the background—or not even discussed—for quite some time. After getting over my initial disappointment, I settled in and didn’t have a problem with it, because what we got was plenty entertaining and intriguing on its own—who needed them to be the focus of the antagonism when you had all this other stuff going on?

But, I tell you what, it felt good to get back to this story. I really appreciate that we came back to it as we did, with Alice and the others having to jump in and catch up. This made it easy for the reader to get backstory thrown at us and we didn’t have to go back to the time of Magic for Nothing or thereabouts to see watch the invasion.

This was a solid novel in the series, and I think will serve as a really good way for the next arc to launch—letting us see all the Prices (in one way or another) fighting the Covenant. I don’t have much to say beyond that—InCryptid books bring a lot of snark, a dash of romance, a good amount of action, and some interesting musings on life, family, and what makes a decent person (human or not). That’s what you get in Backpacking through Bedlam.

I have no idea what’s coming next—or who our primary character will be in the next book—and I don’t care. I’m just eager to see it.

This wouldn’t be a bad place to jump on—there’s enough recapping of various and sundry storylines going on that it’s probably the best one since the fifth book (books 1, 3, 5, and now, 12 I think are the optimal jumping-on points). Just know that if you try it, you’re going to want to go back to the beginning.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Opening Lines: Sacred by Dennis Lehane

Head & Shoulders used to tell us that, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” That’s true for wearing dark shirts, and it’s especially true for books. Sometimes the characters will hook the reader, sometimes the premise, sometimes it’s just knowing the author—but nothing beats a great opening for getting a reader to commit. This is the third book in one of my favorite series (and the fourth I’d read when I first encountered it), so I was pre-commited when I picked it up. But if I’d never read Lehane before, this would’ve done it for me.

A piece of advice: If you ever follow someone in my neighborhood, don’t wear pink.

The first day Angie and I picked up the little round guy on our tail, he wore a pink shirt under a gray suit and a black topcoat. The suit was double-breasted, Italian, and too nice for my part of town by several hundred dollars. The topcoat was cashmere. People in my neighborhood could afford cashmere, I suppose, but usually they spend so much on the duct tape that keeps their tail pipes attached to their ’82 Chevys, that they don’t have much left over for anything but that trip to Aruba.

The second day, the little round guy replaced the pink shirt with a more subdued white, lost the cashmere and the Italian suit, but still stuck out like Michael Jackson in a day care center by wearing a hat. Nobody in my neighborhood–or any of Boston’s inner-city neighborhoods that I know of–wears anything on their head but a baseball cap or the occasional tweed Scally. And our friend, the Weeble, as we’d come to call him, wore a bowler. A fine-looking bowler, don’t get me wrong, but a bowler just the same.

“He could be an alien,” Angie said. I looked out the window of the Avenue Coffee Shop. The Weeble’s head jerked and then he bent to fiddle with his shoelaces.

“An alien,” I said. “From where exactly? France?”

She frowned at me and lathered cream cheese over, bagel so strong with onions my eyes watered just looking at it. “No, stupid. From the future. Didn’t you ever see that old Star Trek where Kirk and Spock ended wp on earth in the thirties and were hopelessly out of step?”

“I hate Star Trek.”

“But you’re familiar with the concept.”

I nodded, then yawned. The Weeble studied a telephone pole as if he’d never seen one before. Maybe Angie was right.

“How can you not like Star Trek?” Angie said.

“Easy. I watch it, it annoys me, I turn it off.”

“Even Next Generation?”

“What’s that?” I said.

“When you were born,” she said, “I bet your father held you up to your mother and said, ‘Look, hon, you just gave birth to a beautiful crabby old man.'”

“What’s your point?” I said.

from Sacred by Dennis Lehane
Sacred

Opening Lines Logo

Fearless by M.W. Craven: I Didn’t Realize How Ominously “Proactive” Could Be Used in a Sentence

1. I don’t think I adequately expressed how good this book is below—it’s always a problem I have when I’m as enthusiastic about a book as I am about this one.
2. I typically post about a pre-publication book less than a month before publication, this is more than three months in advance. I just couldn’t wait that long to read it. See what I said about “enthusiastic” above.
3. Related to #1, I really don’t know if this is all that coherent–I get rambly when I’m this enthusiastic. I’m also not sure I rambled about the right things. You get what you pay for here.


FearlessFearless

by M.W. Craven

DETAILS:
Series: Ben Koenig, #X
Publisher: Flatiron Books
Publication Date: July 11, 2023
Format: ARC
Length: 405 pgs. 
Read Date: March 20-21, 2023

What’s Fearless About?

I’m going to be vague and/or withholding a lot here because Ben Koenig/M.W. Craven will give you the details in a more satisfying manner than I will/can. So live with that—or go order the book. (the better option)

Ben Koenig used to be a U.S. Marshal. Well, he never resigned, so maybe he still is one. But he’s no-showed enough that he probably isn’t anymore. Before he went off-the-grid six years ago, he headed up the Special Operations Group—a task force that went after the worst of the worst on the Marshals’ caseload. They’re the kind of guys that Raylan Givens would call when things got over his head (or hat, I guess).

Koenig literally cannot feel fear—which is a great asset in a situation fraught with danger—it’s also a major problem. Fear keeps people from reckless and foolish moves. A move he might not have made if he’d hesitated a moment (but that he doesn’t regret) put him in a situation where he needed to disappear. No one is better at disappearing than someone who is great at tracking anyone.

But something has happened, and the Marshals have to go to extraordinary lengths to find him. The Director of the Marshals Service, Mitchell Burridge needs his help. Mitch was Ben’s mentor/friend/father figure, so he’d agree to pretty much anything. Mitch’s daughter went missing from her college some weeks ago, and no one has a lead on her—no police force, no Federal agency. Mitch asks Ben to bring his daughter home (at this point, probably her body, but no one admits that out loud). And as for those who took her? Well, that’s also best left unsaid. Ben will address that when it comes time.

As Mitch puts it, Ben’s an apex predator and there’s no one else who can do all of what needs to get done. He may be that, but he’s been acting more like prey for a long time so he makes a few stumbles along the way as he shakes the dust off. But it’s not too long before Koenig catches a scent and starts following it.

That’s an Unfortunate Name

There’s a figure mentioned pretty early on and then repeatedly throughout the book—it takes a while to know if he’s a victim of something, involved in the disappearance, tangentially connected to the abductors, a dupe, or a red herring—or something else entirely. But the name keeps coming up, and it threw me.

The name is Spencer Quinn. Spencer Quinn is also the pen name of Peter Abrahams. Readers of this blog will recognize that name as the author of one of my favorite PI series, The Chet and Bernie Mysteries, among other things. The name is distinctive enough that it jumps out at you—it took me out of the moment each time. In a way that Rob Parker, Pat Cornwall, or Tom Harris might not (or even the non-nickname versions of their names). Will this be a hiccup for anyone who isn’t a Quinn reader? Nope. Was it easy to get over? Yeah, but there’s the instinctual flash of name recognition throughout.

Craven had no idea he was doing this (as I’d assumed, although I’d theorized that he could be a major fan or a major detractor—depending on how things went with the character), although I have to confess I’m a little surprised that no editor stopped him along the way.

Still, it’s a cool name, you can’t blame a guy for wanting to use it. Just ask Peter Abrahams.

Michael Westen-Moments

The show Burn Notice would regularly feature the protagonist giving voice-over lessons on spycraft, weapons, strategy, etc. to the viewer, and that’s the name I inevitably give to moments in thrillers when the first-person narrator, or the protagonist’s thought process described by the third person narrator, breaks down the hero’s decision making, etc.

I love this stuff. Almost every thriller writer has to feed the reader this kind of thing because most of us don’t know how much pressure you have to exert on the trigger of Gun X to get it to fire, or why it’s important that the guy on the left is holding the knife the way he is so the hero knows he’s more dangerous than the larger guy on the right with the shotgun. Sometimes the protagonist—either through confidence (cockiness?) or to help intimidate the opposition—will deliver this in dialogue. I always appreciate the flair that gives.

Ben Koenig is great at this kind of thing. When he Michael Westons his way through the way he approaches a certain building in the final confrontation, why he picks the type of car he does to use on his mission, why he punches this guy the way he does, etc. the reader can actually believe they’ve been given some information they can use in their daily life. You know, the next time they need to drive a car into another state to locate the missing child of their old boss.

But my favorite Michael Westoning in this book—and the scene that hooked me—is early on when Koenig takes time to critique the group of deputies who came to bring him into custody for the way they went about it—location, timing, where the person with the shotgun was standing in relation to everyone else, etc. Sure, Koenig was the one being detained—but there was no doubt who was in control (and who could’ve made everyone’s day much, much worse had he wanted to).

Incidentally, it’s been too many years since I read the book, but you can’t tell me that this scene wasn’t a tip of the hat to Child’s Killing Floor—and a suggestion to the reader that this character is going to be their next Reacher (who is also good at Michael Westoning).

Who Wrote This Again?

I’m not going to try to claim that I’m an expert on M.W. Craven—but I’m fairly familiar with his work (I’ve read 6 of his 7 previously published novels—don’t ask me to explain the missing one). It’s easy to see that the Avison Fluke novels are written by the same author that gave us the Washington Poe novels. This makes sense, it’s fairly common amongst writers of multiple series—no one is surprised to learn that the Mickey Haller books are written by Bosch’s creator; the Sunny Randall and Virgil Cole/Everett Hitch series and the stand-alone Double Play are clearly the work of the Spenser writer; even if John Rebus wasn’t Malcolm Fox’s white whale, everyone could tell those series were written by the same man; and so on.

But Fearless? It probably took me less than 50 pages to stop thinking of this as ‘the new Craven’ book and ‘the first Koenig’ book. If Koenig shares any DNA with Fluke or Poe, it’d take 23andMe or Ancestry.com to figure it out. If you know nothing about Craven’s previous work, all you’ll see is someone writing a book in the mold of Jack Reacher and Peter Ash—with a little bit of Nick Mason and Nick Heller thrown in. Well, writing in that mold—and matching each series at their best.

So, what did I think about Fearless?

I think the past 5 years have demonstrated pretty clearly that I’m probably going to love whatever Craven writes—and now I know that’s true even if it doesn’t feel like a Craven book.

This just worked on every level—Koenig is a fertile character, well-designed to carry a series for quite a while. His assets are perfect for a Reacher/Peter Ash-type character. His flaws keep him from being invincible, and provide plenty of ways for him to be his own greatest adversary. His quirks (e.g., fixation on chocolate milkshakes, absorption of odd bits of trivia) round him out nicely. The reason he’s off the grid is better than being a Luddite/technophobe. Can he grow—and can the reader grow in their understanding of him? Sure. He can also believably regress and find develop new hindrances and weaknesses to work through or overcome.

The narrative voice that Craven uses here will suck in the reader and keep the pages turning between action scenes. The action scenes might as well be directed by John McTiernan, Shane Black, or Chad Stahelski. I don’t know how “realistic” they are, but I don’t think you have to suspend much disbelief. And they’re so fun, who cares?

The story could have been a little more intricate—just a tad. But given everything else that this book had to do—introduce Koenig, establish the series and his backstory, provide some good potential recurring characters—some things have to be sacrificed. Then again, I can point to several beloved and best-selling thrillers that aren’t as intricate as this one. So don’t take this point as anything but me being greedy.

I did have a quibble or two with the novel—it’s not perfect. But I hesitate to get into them as I read an ARC, and there’s still a chance for them to vanish before publication. Also, they’re pretty much at the straining at gnats level, and I try to avoid that. In the end, those quibbles only serve to underline how great the rest of it is.

This is clearly the first in a series (even if all the promotional materials didn’t call it that, you’d get that sense throughout—and the last five pages make it abundantly clear that there’s more to come. So I do think future books will have a slightly different flavor than this one—which could’ve very easily served as a standalone.

To put it simply, I loved every second I spent reading this, Fearless was the highlight of the month for me—and I expect that I’ll keep talking about it throughout the year—I can’t wait for it to get published here so that American audiences can meet Craven. Put your orders in now, folks, July will be here before you know it, and you don’t want to miss this.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Flatiron Books via NetGalley, and an ARC from Flatiron with an assist from the author in exchange for this post—thanks to all involved for this. Their providing it only influenced my opinion by giving me something to opine about—I raved about it of my own free will.


5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Death at Paradise Palms by Steph Broadribb: The Detectives Show Their Fallibility In This Strong Follow-up

Death at Paradise PalmsDeath at Paradise Palms

by Steph Broadribb

DETAILS:
Series: The Retired Detectives Club, #2
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Publication Date: October 11, 2022
Format: eBook
Length: 303 pgs.
Read Date: March 16-17, 2023

What’s Death at Paradise Palms About?

After they solved a murder a few months earlier, the Retired Detectives Club has gained a certain amount of notoriety around the Homestead Retirement Community, so it’s not terribly surprising that when a resident has some concerns they call them for help. Particularly when that resident has had bad experiences with the police previously.

This particular resident is a retired movie star, Olivia Hamilton Ziegler. Her husband is missing, and she suspects foul play. They’re having no problems and it’s not like him to just not come home, not call, not pick up his phone, etc.

The Club jumps in, more than willing to help—they find a handful of decent suspects and start to dig into the background of each when a ransom demand shows up. Now they have a pressing deadline and more than a wife’s intuition. It’s time for these retired detectives to get to work.

Distracted Detectives

I’m not sure if this says something about Broadribb’s view of Americans, but in Death in the Sunshine we see that the three British retirees have things from their past that are hovering over them. I like that dynamic, but it’s good that not everyone has some deep, dark secret. Rick, our DEA retiree, seems to be baggage-free and easygoing. Maybe that just means we haven’t seen his baggage, or maybe Broadribb just thinks Americans are shallow.*

* I’m kidding. Probably.

With our British friends, however, things have happened to push these problems from hanging over their heads to being front-and-center in their minds. Normally this would be good, they’re working on the issues, dealing with the issues. However, when this club is the only one working on this kidnapping—the only outsiders aware of it—dealing with personal stuff becomes a distraction. Potentially a fatal one.

All three of these people make huge mistakes in the course of this investigation, easily observable mistakes (especially to the reader). And it’s not because they’re older, it’s not because their minds are slower, or their bodies aren’t up to what they used to be able to do—it’s because their heads aren’t in the game.

This makes for compelling storytelling, it’s great to see flawed characters battling with their flaws—but it’s a good thing they’re all retired because this is the kind of thing that should hurt a career.

The Series Arc

Ultimately, I think this series going to be telling the story of the shenanigans at the top of the Homestead Retirement Community. In Death in the Sunshine we see pretty clearly that TPTB filter the news and do what they can to prevent anything negative from getting out to the public or into the residents. And if it does show up, it’s quickly erased.

This takes work on the Social Media, old-school media, and possibly even law enforcement fronts—there’s no way that it’s all coincidental, unintentional, or any other excusable motivation. So the questions that need to be answered are why is this being done, who profits, who is hurt by this, and what actions are being taken/pressures applied, to get these various and sundry groups to quash the information.

Some of the residents see that this is going on—but (if you ask me) not enough seem that concerned—Moira sure is and is doing something about it. She’s working with a local reporter, although she has reason to believe that this is not the safest path for either of them to be taking. But that doesn’t seem to deter her.

I really hope that she’s able to get more of the Club on board with this soon—not that I want them distracted from their next big case. But she’s going to need some backup.

So, what did I think about Death at Paradise Palms?

I remember enjoying Death in the Sunshine, but I’d largely forgotten why. It was good to be reminded—this isn’t your typical elderly amateur detective series—this is a grittier take on that trend, full of people who are only amateur now, it wasn’t that long ago they were professionals, and they’ve still got the goods.

I did clock the Main Bad Guy instantly, and can only excuse the Club for not doing the same because of all their distractions (and because they’re not aware that they’re fictional characters, a lot of what tipped me off came from being a reader). So for me, the tension came from wanting to know how long it would take them to get around to discovering the truth—and how they’d use what they learned from the false trails to get there. That was enough for me—the good in this series doesn’t come from the whodunit—but from how they’re caught.

This, like all of Broadribb’s work, is a fast and fun read—it hooks you early and doesn’t let go until it’s good and ready to. Just buckle in and enjoy the ride. I can’t imagine I’ll let the next one of these sit ignored on my Kindle as I did this one.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

PUB DAY REPOST: Good Dog, Bad Cop by David Rosenfelt: Corey Douglas Starts to Come Into His Own as a PI

Good Dog, Bad CopGood Dog, Bad Cop

by David Rosenfelt

DETAILS:
Series: The K Team, #4
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: March 14, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 288 pg.
Read Date: February 28-March 2, 2023
9781250828965

What’s Good Dog, Bad Cop About?

Pete Stanton, when he’s not building up a tab for Andy Carpenter at their favorite sports bar, is in charge of the Homicide Division of the Paterson PD. He doesn’t have the budget for more police detectives, but he had a healthy budget for consultants (figure that one out if you can). So he’s hired the K-Team to look into some cold cases for him.

The first one they pick is a doozy. A few years ago, a retired detective and mentor to Corey Douglas was found shot on his boat, a woman’s body was also found there. Some suspicions about a murder-suicide were floated, but nothing stuck. Corey wants to look into it, and Pete approves it with one caveat—they have to investigate the murder of that woman’s husband. He, too, was a Paterson police officer who was murdered. Other than his wife, there’s no obvious connection between the cases, and they weren’t investigated that way.

Corey and Laurie knew going in that Pete would assign them both if they requested one—and honestly, they wanted it that way. All three were aware of the game they were playing, and they all did their part. Now, hopefully, the K-Team and help the PPD close these cases and get some justice for the victims.

Simon

This is really Corey’s book—Laurie’s in it a decent amount, but she doesn’t seem to play as vital a role as usual. Marcus isn’t around much—but is when it counts. Where it comes up short is, as is often the case, Simon’s involvement.

We need to see more of him—Corey even jokes about it at one point, saying Simon’s going to be jealous about something he’s up to without him. That’s all well and good–but it’s not enough.

This is a series about detectives who name their team after a dog. Corey’s a former dog handler. The dog needs to be around more. Do we get some good Simon action? Yes. Are the lines about him and the action involving him good? Absolutely (equating him to Marcus is a great idea). But c’mon, Rosenfelt—give us more Simon.

Poor Sam

Okay, it’s been evident for quite some time in the Andy Carpenter books that while Sam is a good accountant, he enjoys his side gig as a computer researcher for Andy (who isn’t impeded by things like ethics or laws), and he’s more than happy to help out with the K-Team.

But these guys are starting to rely on him too much—sure, they do the legwork. They put a lot of the clues together—but Sam got most of those clues for them. And the number of times that Corey called with new tasks for him was borderline outrageous. They’re working this guy to the bone.

It occurs to me that I said something very similar about the computer tech in the DC Maggie Jamieson series. Is there maybe a union for overworked tech geniuses in Mysteries/Procedurals? Maybe Tilly Bradshaw can organize something.

Corey as a PI

Corey is really coming into his own as a PI (at least as far as fictional PIs go). In the first book or two, he tried to do things the right way—he was very aware that he was no longer a cop and had to act in a certain manner because of it. But he still acted like a police officer, with those kinds of instincts.

Laurie had spent enough time as a PI, was more comfortable in the role, and accepted a greater degree of looseness when it came to protocols. I doubt Marcus ever cared about them in the first place. But Corey was pretty uptight and had to be cajoled into doing certain things.

He seems over that now—he’s willing to color outside the lines, ignore certain rules/laws, and so on. It’s about getting the results and taking care of details and technicalities later.*

* I want to stress that I’m okay with this because we’re talking fictional detectives. The casual attitude toward privacy, phone records, financial transactions, and breaking and entering in a real person would be intolerable—I don’t care what their profession is.

It’s great to see him grow and develop. He’s not the same character that he was when we met him in the Andy Carpenter books–or when this series started. I’m sure that growth with slow and/or stop soon—but for now, I’m liking the journey.

The M Word

As much as he’s growing in his new profession, Corey’s got a long way to go on the personal front. Sure, he’s made great strides since meeting and starting to date Dani. He’s in a long-term committed relationship and isn’t thinking of running for the hills or making some lame excuse to break up.

But he can’t even bring himself to say—or think (including in his narration)—the word “marriage.” He will call it “M” throughout the book—and he’s thinking about it pretty frequently in this book. Sure, it’s immature—he realizes it. But that’s not enough. This is also one of those things that the reader has to suspend disbelief and just roll with. If you do, it’s a fun running joke (it’s easy to do, because if anyone can make a somewhat emotionally stunted man entertaining, it’s the creator of Andy Carpenter).

So, what did I think about Good Dog, Bad Cop?

I know this series (like the Carpenter books) aren’t technically cozies—Marcus by himself keeps them from being considered that way. But I don’t know if there is a pair of series (or one) that I feel so comfortable in. Within a paragraph or two of the protagonist showing up, I’m enjoying the book and feel at home.

Sure, there are better entries and lesser entries—characters moves I like more than others, and so on. But I know as soon as I start one of these books that I’m going to have a good time. That’s what happened here.

I’m enjoying Corey’s transformation into a more typical PI—there are a couple of moments where he felt like the 1990s-era Spenser (just with a dog that wouldn’t run from gunfire). I’m not going to complain about that—ever. I enjoy the dynamics between the team, between the team and the police/other law enforcement entities, between the team and Andy, and so on. I simply enjoyed myself here.

The mysteries on top of that were good, too. I admit that I got suckered into a red herring or two, and things that I was sure of along the way were wrong (I was on the right path, and was only one connection away from being in step with Corey).*

* I’m sure I probably sound defensive there, but that’s only because I am.

I don’t know what else to say—this is a good installment in a reliable series. Fans of Carpenter, the K-Team, or lighter mysteries will gobble this one up. Satisfaction assured.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

Good Dog, Bad Cop by David Rosenfelt: Corey Douglas Starts to Come Into His Own as a PI

Good Dog, Bad CopGood Dog, Bad Cop

by David Rosenfelt

DETAILS:
Series: The K Team, #4
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: March 14, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 288 pg.
Read Date: February 28-March 2, 2023
9781250828965

What’s Good Dog, Bad Cop About?

Pete Stanton, when he’s not building up a tab for Andy Carpenter at their favorite sports bar, is in charge of the Homicide Division of the Paterson PD. He doesn’t have the budget for more police detectives, but he had a healthy budget for consultants (figure that one out if you can). So he’s hired the K-Team to look into some cold cases for him.

The first one they pick is a doozy. A few years ago, a retired detective and mentor to Corey Douglas was found shot on his boat, a woman’s body was also found there. Some suspicions about a murder-suicide were floated, but nothing stuck. Corey wants to look into it, and Pete approves it with one caveat—they have to investigate the murder of that woman’s husband. He, too, was a Paterson police officer who was murdered. Other than his wife, there’s no obvious connection between the cases, and they weren’t investigated that way.

Corey and Laurie knew going in that Pete would assign them both if they requested one—and honestly, they wanted it that way. All three were aware of the game they were playing, and they all did their part. Now, hopefully, the K-Team and help the PPD close these cases and get some justice for the victims.

Simon

This is really Corey’s book—Laurie’s in it a decent amount, but she doesn’t seem to play as vital a role as usual. Marcus isn’t around much—but is when it counts. Where it comes up short is, as is often the case, Simon’s involvement.

We need to see more of him—Corey even jokes about it at one point, saying Simon’s going to be jealous about something he’s up to without him. That’s all well and good–but it’s not enough.

This is a series about detectives who name their team after a dog. Corey’s a former dog handler. The dog needs to be around more. Do we get some good Simon action? Yes. Are the lines about him and the action involving him good? Absolutely (equating him to Marcus is a great idea). But c’mon, Rosenfelt—give us more Simon.

Poor Sam

Okay, it’s been evident for quite some time in the Andy Carpenter books that while Sam is a good accountant, he enjoys his side gig as a computer researcher for Andy (who isn’t impeded by things like ethics or laws), and he’s more than happy to help out with the K-Team.

But these guys are starting to rely on him too much—sure, they do the legwork. They put a lot of the clues together—but Sam got most of those clues for them. And the number of times that Corey called with new tasks for him was borderline outrageous. They’re working this guy to the bone.

It occurs to me that I said something very similar about the computer tech in the DC Maggie Jamieson series. Is there maybe a union for overworked tech geniuses in Mysteries/Procedurals? Maybe Tilly Bradshaw can organize something.

Corey as a PI

Corey is really coming into his own as a PI (at least as far as fictional PIs go). In the first book or two, he tried to do things the right way—he was very aware that he was no longer a cop and had to act in a certain manner because of it. But he still acted like a police officer, with those kinds of instincts.

Laurie had spent enough time as a PI, was more comfortable in the role, and accepted a greater degree of looseness when it came to protocols. I doubt Marcus ever cared about them in the first place. But Corey was pretty uptight and had to be cajoled into doing certain things.

He seems over that now—he’s willing to color outside the lines, ignore certain rules/laws, and so on. It’s about getting the results and taking care of details and technicalities later.*

* I want to stress that I’m okay with this because we’re talking fictional detectives. The casual attitude toward privacy, phone records, financial transactions, and breaking and entering in a real person would be intolerable—I don’t care what their profession is.

It’s great to see him grow and develop. He’s not the same character that he was when we met him in the Andy Carpenter books–or when this series started. I’m sure that growth with slow and/or stop soon—but for now, I’m liking the journey.

The M Word

As much as he’s growing in his new profession, Corey’s got a long way to go on the personal front. Sure, he’s made great strides since meeting and starting to date Dani. He’s in a long-term committed relationship and isn’t thinking of running for the hills or making some lame excuse to break up.

But he can’t even bring himself to say—or think (including in his narration)—the word “marriage.” He will call it “M” throughout the book—and he’s thinking about it pretty frequently in this book. Sure, it’s immature—he realizes it. But that’s not enough. This is also one of those things that the reader has to suspend disbelief and just roll with. If you do, it’s a fun running joke (it’s easy to do, because if anyone can make a somewhat emotionally stunted man entertaining, it’s the creator of Andy Carpenter).

So, what did I think about Good Dog, Bad Cop?

I know this series (like the Carpenter books) aren’t technically cozies—Marcus by himself keeps them from being considered that way. But I don’t know if there is a pair of series (or one) that I feel so comfortable in. Within a paragraph or two of the protagonist showing up, I’m enjoying the book and feel at home.

Sure, there are better entries and lesser entries—characters moves I like more than others, and so on. But I know as soon as I start one of these books that I’m going to have a good time. That’s what happened here.

I’m enjoying Corey’s transformation into a more typical PI—there are a couple of moments where he felt like the 1990s-era Spenser (just with a dog that wouldn’t run from gunfire). I’m not going to complain about that—ever. I enjoy the dynamics between the team, between the team and the police/other law enforcement entities, between the team and Andy, and so on. I simply enjoyed myself here.

The mysteries on top of that were good, too. I admit that I got suckered into a red herring or two, and things that I was sure of along the way were wrong (I was on the right path, and was only one connection away from being in step with Corey).*

* I’m sure I probably sound defensive there, but that’s only because I am.

I don’t know what else to say—this is a good installment in a reliable series. Fans of Carpenter, the K-Team, or lighter mysteries will gobble this one up. Satisfaction assured.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.

The Perception of Dolls by Anthony Croix, Edited by Russell Day: Creepy Dolls, Creepy dolls, and Creepy do!!s

I did a lousy job on this…I’m just not capable of discussing this book properly. But I gave it a shot, though.


The Perception Of DollsThe Perception Of Dolls

by Anthony Croix, Edited by Russell Day

DETAILS:
Publisher: Fahrenheit Press
Publication Date: December 2, 2023
Format: Hardcover
Length: 277 pg.
Read Date: January 16-19, 2023
Support Independent Bookstores - Visit IndieBound.org

What’s The Perception Of Dolls About?

There’s no way to simply talk about this book. Period. So this is going to take a bit, bear with me. Let’s start with this from the Publisher’s site:

“It’s almost as if history is trying to erase the whole affair.” – Anthony Croix

The triple murder and failed suicide that took place at 37 Fantoccini Street in 2001, raised little media interest at the time. In a week heavy with global news, a ‘domestic tragedy’ warranted few column inches. The case was open and shut, the inquest was brief and the ‘Doll Murders’ – little more than a footnote in the ledgers of Britain’s true crime enthusiasts – were largely forgotten.

Nevertheless, investigations were made, police files generated, testimonies recorded, and conclusions reached. The reports are there, a matter of public record, for those with a mind to look.

The details of what took place in Fantoccini Street in the years that followed are less accessible. The people involved in the field trips to number 37 are often unwilling, or unable, to talk about what they witnessed. The hours of audio recordings, video tapes, written accounts, photographs, drawings, and even online postings are elusive, almost furtive.

In fact, were it not for a chance encounter between the late Anthony Croix and an obsessive collector of Gothic dolls, the Fantoccini Street Reports might well have been lost forever.

But that’s not all—the late Anthony Croix was an independent journalist, and from that encounter with the doll collector, he gets on the trail of 37 Fantoccini Street and what happened there—from the murders to the repeated trips by students from London North University looking into paranormal activity on the site.

Croix conducted those interviews with those from the visits who were still alive and capable of being interviewed, and wrote up descriptions of the photographs and videos (he wasn’t permitted to copy them or use them in his final work), compiling all this into a book that he was unable to finish before his death.

Enter Russell Day who took the notes and drafts compiled by Croix and assembled them into a (mostly) publishable form. (that’s not a knock on Day’s work, he did what he could to honor Croix’s particular style)

Reading a Documentary

Back in junior high/high school, I remember watching documentaries and documentary-style TV shows about paranormal investigations and unsolved crimes. This reads a lot like one of those. Those would feature a lot of intercut interviews telling the story—some contradicting the others—with a little, but not too much voice-over narration stitching them together. There’d also be some questionable photographs and some dark video clips that are hard to see a whole lot of detail in.

That’s pretty much what The Perception Of Dolls is—just in book form. It’s surprisingly effective—it doesn’t take a whole lot of imagination on the part of the reader to “see” the whole thing. Yeah, the format of interview transcripts and descriptions of the visuals are pretty bare-boned, but you’ll find yourself supplying all the necessary details with almost no prompting from the text.

When Style is Not a Style

Whether I’ve discussed a short story or a novel by Day, one of the things I inevitably talk the most about is his style.

None of that is evident here. Not one bit. As I said, this reads as dryly as a transcript of a documentary—which is exactly what Day was going for. The absence of style is as much work—if not much more—than Day’s typically flashy and gorgeous styles.

“Dry” doesn’t mean dull—not for a second. Day dives so far into the persona of Croix—eliding obscenities, odd typography, purposefully including typos, sentence fragments, etc. that the text of the novel itself becomes a character as vibrant as any of the others.

So, what did I think about The Perception Of Dolls?

So…when I first saw this advertised, I didn’t think this would be my cup of tea—it’s not really a genre I’m all that fond of, and rarely want to try. But then I remembered that the genre of “Things written by Russell Day” is definitely one of my favorites, so I went for it.

I’m so glad that I tried this.

Objectively, I’d say that there’s little reason on the page to feel unease, dread, anxiety, or much of anything actually. But because of the subject matter and/or the way that the story is told—I don’t see how you don’t feel dread, anxiety, and a growing sense of creepiness throughout. The last photograph described by Croix is going to stick with me a little longer than I’m comfortable with, I’ve got to say. It’s impossible to say what precisely happened—at almost any point the book describes—at 37 Fantoccini Street or with some of the related events, but something’s not right about that place. Everything that ever happened there needs to be narrated by Robert Stack.*

* I don’t know if that will mean anything to anyone who wasn’t watching U.S. TV in the late 1980s, but I assure you, it’s an apt observation.

Okay, I take that back—there’s objectively at least one scene that should make any reader feel creeped out and possibly anxious. Croix gets to view the doll collector’s collection. If imagining 897 dolls of various types and conditions in one room (I’ll leave the details to the book) doesn’t give you the heebie-jeebies, you should seek professional help.

Everything in this book is unreliable—the narratives in the newspapers from the original killings were only printed in a newspaper that doesn’t exist anymore, and the photographs from that story—or anytime after that, are only described. Even a documentary related to murder is of dubious quality. You’ll find plenty to question in the witness accounts of what happened—particularly when they differ (and, yes, I’m sure they’re all lying—it’s tough to decide which one is lying when). The reader is given plenty of reasons throughout to wonder about Anthony Croix’s accuracy—and there appear to be pages missing from his manuscript that could change our understanding of the whole thing. All of which serves to increase my general feelings of unease about the whole narrative.

Near the end of the book, Croix is talking about someone he interacted with a lot saying they’re a perfect “reflector”

of the overarching story of number 37. Facts present themselves but offer no revelations and produce questions, not answers.

That’s precisely what this book delivers—and it does so in a way that even people who demand a lot of resolution from a story can be satisfied with it. I wondered more than once what I’d end up thinking about this book as I walked through it, I was uncertain most of the time I spent reading. But the last few chapters solidified things for me. And the days I’ve spent afterward thinking about the whole thing make me even more sure—it’s one of those books that gets better the more you think about it—I’m dazzled by this book. I’m not in awe—and I certainly didn’t enjoy most of it (if by enjoy you mean “had fun while reading”). But I was hooked. I was captivated. I was (at least momentarily) obsessed with it.


5 Stars

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Lost in the Moment and Found by Seanan McGuire: Nothing Comes Free

Lost in the Moment and FoundLost in the Moment and Found

by Seanan McGuire

DETAILS:
Series: Wayward Children, #8
Publisher: Tordotcom
Publication Date: January 10, 2023
Format: Hardcover
Length:  146 pg.
Read Date: January 12-13, 2023
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This ended up being one of those books that I could say almost nothing about or could just as easily have said far too much about. It took me a week and a half just to figure out—I hope—the way to strike the balance.

What’s Lost in the Moment and Found About?

Antoinette (known as Antsy) is a little girl whose life is shattered when her father dies unexpectedly. Her mother quickly remarries for security and her stepfather is the stuff of nightmares. He dismantles her idyllic-sounding childhood, almost removing her from the family. When darker (much darker) things loom, Antsy runs away.

Naturally—well, supernaturally—as this is a Wayward Children book, she’s soon presented with a Door. She steps through it, as sure as someone who isn’t even ten can be. And enters a shop. Unusually for this series, she’s not in a new world—but a shop. The Shop Where the Lost Things Go to be precise.

The shop is managed by an old woman named Vineta and a very large (and talking) magpie named Hudson. In addition to the Shop being the place that Lost Things go—those that are needed by their owners can come be retrieved. There is a Door in the Shop that Antsy can open to other worlds (Antsy’s door, and that of those coming to Find something, appears in a different location)—there’s never any telling what world will be on the other side of the Door. If it looks appealing, Vineta and Antsy will go through and purchase some things to sell in the Shop (and feed themselves), otherwise Antsy will close the door and try again.

At some point, Antsy begins finding ominous notes trying to tell her something—will she figure out what the notes are trying to tell her in time?

Worldbuilding

One of the more entertaining things—for me, anyway—about this series is hearing about worlds that we don’t get to spend time in (or more than a quick glimpse, anyway). Just a brief mention along the way to some other point, and you get to fuel your imagination for a bit. Given this setting—and the way the Shop flits between worlds for Antsy and Vineta to go pick up stock, Lost in the Moment and Found is rife in these glimpses, hints of what else is out there. I had so much fun with that—McGuire’s really created a universe for these stories where she can indulge any whim she has for storytelling and it’d work.

But that’s not really what I wanted to talk about.

This entry would be a worthwhile read for fans if only for this one thing—we learn more about the Doors and how they work. I’m not going to go into it, obviously, nor am I going to promise that every question you had about the Doors will be answered—actually you’ll likely end up with new questions, but they’ll be informed questions.

Depth of Darkness

On the whole, this series hasn’t featured “bad guys”—largely, the antagonists have been people with competing visions for the way things ought to be. People who were trying their best, but who couldn’t understand their children (before and/or after their door)—and so on. A lot of people you don’t want to be around and you don’t want to see have much success as they are, but typically it’s possible to see where they’re coming from and why they do what they do (as much as you might object to it).

But in this book? There are a minimum of two evil characters. People that need to be stopped, and you sort of wish Toby Daye would make a cameo and do what she does best.

McGuire’s painted some bleak circumstances for her Wayward Children—but this seems bleaker (I haven’t spent a lot of time reviewing the older books, so I’m prepared to be corrected) and darker than we’re used to. There’s a period where you can forget that, where it almost feels like Antsy is out for a very long lark and everything will be a fun adventure.

I don’t know if this is a turning point and that we’ll see more books like this in the years to come. I doubt it—I think this is a story that needed to be told, but we’ll be back on more familiar ground—with a more familiar tone—soon.

So, what did I think about Lost in the Moment and Found?

This is clearly a personal story of McGuire (just read the Author’s note that precedes the text) and there’s a rawness to the writing that isn’t typical for this series (or McGuire, period). But it’s oh, so fitting.

I find myself slipping into misconceptions about this series—I enjoy the characters (so many of our protagonists are just loveable), the concept behind the series and West’s school, and so on—it’s easy to remember the nonsense worlds, the joy that characters frequently experience in finding a Door, going home, or leaving home that you forget that almost everyone goes through a Door from our world to get away from something. When I pause to write something like this or describe the series/a particular novella to someone—all of that comes rushing back. Only to be forgotten again until I start reading the next book.* Antsy’s situation is perhaps the most disturbing we’ve seen—and what she ultimately finds in the shop is equally (but in a very different way) unsettling.

* I hope I’m not alone in that, but I have to assume the rest of you are more careful in your reading/remembering.

The novella is not all dire and troubling—there’s a lot of fun to be had as we follow Antsy. The quick excursion to the lost animal department could’ve filled a novella or two. The reader might see some old friends out of the corner of their eye, too. Most importantly, there is hope. That last line is earned (as we’re told time and time again, nothing comes free), and is so reassuring.

Unsurprisingly, I recommend this book—unlike most in the series, I don’t think this would serve as a good entry point. It’s a good number 8 (these are all novellas, so reading eight of them isn’t that big of an investment). It’s raw, it’s unsettling (at the very least), it’s emotional, and it’s full of some of McGuire’s best prose. I’m sure those who’ve read 1-2 (or all seven) others don’t need me to say this, you’ve probably already read them. But for everyone else, it’s time to start reading these books.


4 1/2 Stars

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REPOSTING JUST CUZ: The King of the Crows by Russell Day: Prescient. Gripping. Haunting. Unpredictable. What stories should be.

Things have gotten away from me today, so I don’t have anything new to share. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this book this week (I think about this book frequently, to be honest, but several times a day this week), so I figured I’d try to get others thinking about it, too. If you haven’t read this yet, you should strongly consider doing so, as I argue below. Incidentally, re-reading this now serves as a really good argument for me to adopt the current format of my posts using section headers and whatnot (I’d been rethinking them last week, but after this post? They’re sticking around)

King of the Crows

King of the Crows

by Russell Day

Kindle Edition, 456 pg.
Fahrenheit Press, 2020

Read: April 28-May 9, 2020

… for me at least, the first week of the Lockdown was the worst.

Knowing it had happened to me. I hadn’t escaped, I wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Lucky to be safe or lucky to be dead. Take your pick. I was neither.

That right there gives you a pretty good idea what kind of light and fluffy read this is going to be.

There are two timelines in this story—the primary focuses on a post-pandemic London, while the other shows what happened to a couple of the characters mid-pandemic (with plenty of material describing what the pandemic was like for others). In the primary timeline, Europe is a disaster—a “wasteland”—and eight years after the Outbreak, it’s beginning to put itself back together. But it’s going to take a long, long time to recover from this. Don’t let the fact that “eight years after” this fictional outbreak is 2028 bother you at all.*

* Good luck with that. I’ll get back to this in a bit.

I’m not going to try to list all the various ways that Day uses to tell this story: I’m certainly going to forget several. So here’s a partial list: here’s a third-person 2028 narrator describing a police investigation, a first-person perspective on the same investigation; a first-person account of that same detective’s life during the Outbreak; selections from a screenplay made about a group of Londoners during the Outbreak; selections from the Outbreak-memoir of one of those Londoners; and third-person narration of the same (N.B.: these three will vary in telling ways); redacted 2028 prison correspondence about the Outbreak; excerpts from scholarly works on aspects of the Outbreak (including a very illuminating work on the slang of the time); graffiti from 2021; internet message boards. Day weaves these together to tell his story, build the world, and help you to understand it. Frequently, I read something from the 2028 timeline, and understood it—only to find a new depth to it several pages later after getting another piece of the puzzle from 2020/2021. It’s hard to juggle that many narrative forms/voices/perspectives/calendars as a reader or a writer—Day pulled it off better than I did (any problems I had following things I attribute to myself, and it was pretty easy to clear out my misunderstanding with a minimum of backtracking*). It definitely helps paint the picture of the scope and variety of effects the sickness had on the world more efficiently than a consistent first- or third-person narrative would be able to.

* This would be easier in hardcopy than on an e-reader in my opinion. But that’s just a guess.

There are times (several of them) when I felt that the characters were getting lost amongst the plot and worldbuilding and sickness. But when I stopped and thought about it—and eventually got to the point where I didn’t have to—I realized I had a pretty solid idea about who these people were and was more invested in them than I expected. I thought there was so much going on that the people were getting hidden, but really, Day’s work was subtle—working in the characters into my subconscious like you give a dog its medicine. Normally, this isn’t something I require (or would like)—and it’s not Day’s usual M. O. (quite the opposite), but I think this approach really fit the novel and the story/world.

“They weren’t zombies,” he says, softly. “Don’t call them zombies.”

No one who was involved in the Outbreak for real uses the zee word.

So exactly what was the sickness?

I remember reading a couple of years ago about these ants that would succumb to a fungus which would short-circuit their brain and make them do certain things before killing them—or something like that, vague memories here. Then there were stories about parasites controlling the host’s actions—both of these stories had their 15 seconds of fame on social media around the same time (I may be messing the details up a little bit, but I’m not writing history here).

In Day’s world, one of these kinds of parasites will reside—asymptomatically, I should stress—in cats, who would pass it on to humans. Skipping the details, the humans would get very sick and then, survivors would maybe succumb to a psychosis that would make them violent. This sickness, HV-Tg (Human Variant-Toxo gondii), in a little more than a year would kill more than 20 million in Europe (at least 33% of France’s population) Et voilà!—an easy to believe pandemic that results in Zombie-like people wandering around.

Now, if one of those who’d “switched” and become violent infected you during an assault, well, you were likely to succumb. There were enough of these (“psychos” or “Gonzos”), and the sickness was so widespread, that the police and military couldn’t keep up, that civilians were forced to take action and defend themselves, their family and neighbors. People quickly forming into gang-like associations for mutual protection. It was a literal kill-or-be-infected (and likely killed) situation.

One such association became known as The Crows or The Kings of the Crows. They developed a legendary status mid-and post-Outbreak—and are the subjects of the memoir and film mentioned above. One of their number who happened to survive (and gain notoriety enough to get a publishing deal for a memoir) is the subject of the 2028 investigation. They survived the worst of the worst in one of the hardest-hit cities. They did so via means and methods that many (including their own) would find deplorable, but under circumstances that not only permitted, but required, those actions.

We also see what happens to an American in Paris for work when the Outbreak reaches the point that International travel is canceled (particularly to the U.S.). Her allies will never be considered the Kings of anything, and the contrast between how she survives to what the Crows do is pretty striking.

In 2028…eh…you know what? You should read that for yourself. I’m going to say something I’ll regret.

The biggest killer in those days wasn’t the disease or the psychos, it was stupidity.

However, it has been pointed out by many historians, logic was one of the first casualties of the Outbreak.

Some of the best moments of this book have nothing to do with advancing the plot, they’re little bits showing what the world of the Gondii-pandemic looks like. The man telling the story about taking his girlfriend to the ER because of a burn—how they were treated, and how she became infected. The soldiers coming back from a Middle East deployment being completely unprepared for what had happened to their home country. The mother and son who traveled with the Crows for awhile.

Ultimately, it’s not the story you think you’re getting…or is it? The marketing tag line is, “Ocean’s Eleven meets 28 Days Later.” It is, all things considered, a good, catchy line. I’m not sure it’s all that accurate a description of the novel (but it’s not inaccurate). What it is, really slides up on you—and when you see it it feels like it was obvious all along (even if you wouldn’t have said that 20 pages earlier). There’s a straightforward crime story at the heart of this novel—it’s just surrounded by so many layers, that you can miss it—there’s the sickness, there’s the horrible social and political context (both mid- and post-Outbreak), there’s what the characters are going through otherwise—and the whole thing is drenched in social commentary about 2020 society, e.g., sexism, economics, medical care.

And that’s not even touching the context we’re reading it in now. I truly wonder what I’d think of this book if I’d read it last Fall. I’d still like it, I’d still be impressed by it—but I don’t know if it would resonate with me the same way. There’s almost nothing about Gondii that’s comparable to COVID-19. But the way that people and governments respond—well, that’s pretty different, too. but if you can’t see what’s going on around us reflected in this novel? You’re not paying attention. That Day appears so prescient says something about his skill and observation (and a lot about Western culture, too).

I can see why people cling to the idea that the Gonzos were trying to tell us something. Something’s out there trying to get a message through: there’s a plan. Compared to the idea that it was all just chance, it’s a comfort of a type. Chance doesn’t care and can’t be appeased and can’t be reasoned with. Chance means it could all happen again.


5 Stars

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