book beginnings on Friday: The Black Box by Michael Connelly

Thanks to Rose City Reader for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

The new Harry Bosch novel by Connelly comes out in November! Aren’t you excited? Here’s the first two teaser sentences for you:

By the third night the death count was rising so high and so quickly that many of the divisional homicide teams were pulled off the front lines of riot control and put into emergency rotations in South-Central. Detective Harry Bosch and his partner Jerry Edgar were pulled from Hollywood Division and assigned to a roving B watch team that also included two shotgunners from patrol for protection.

Naturally we jump right into the action. I do like Connelly; and his latest does not disappoint.

What are you reading this weekend?


This quotation comes from an uncorrected advance proof and is subject to change.

A Wanted Man by Lee Child

Jack Reacher’s extraordinary expertise intersects full-speed with the FBI and an unknown threat in rural Nebraska.

A Wanted Man is Lee Child’s 17th novel starring retired military police officer Jack Reacher, who roams the country with a toothbrush in his pocket, defeating bullies, defending the weak, solving problems and charming women. Following on the action of Worth Dying For, Reacher is trying to hitch his way cross-country to find a woman whose voice attracts him from afar. But the driver and passengers in the car that picks him up are not what they seem. Soon, Reacher is pulled into a rural Nebraska murder investigation that somehow draws the interest of the FBI, the CIA and the State Department.

Beautiful and talented women, paramilitary threats, an unidentified murder victim, kidnappings, carjackings and a child at risk allow Child’s hero to shine: Reacher knows to use his brains and investigative skills as well as his brawn and weapons training to overcome the enemy. His skill at arithmetic–what Reacher called in an earlier novel a “junior idiot savant” gift for numbers–is particularly useful here.

A Wanted Man delivers expertly paced building of tension, thrilling, full-throttle action and kick-butt fight scenes, all wrapped in a tautly structured mystery with military flavor and international implications. Fans love Reacher because he’s smart, physically unbeatable and chivalrous, and here they’ll find everything they’ve come to expect. Newcomers will have no problem joining mid-series; as usual, the hardest part is waiting for the next installment.


This review originally ran in the Sept. 18, 2012 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Rating: 6 shots fired.

Broken Harbor by Tana French

I consider this to be another great hit from Tana French, author of The Likeness, In the Woods, and Faithful Place. Her mysteries are atmospheric, have a strong sense of place (that place being Dublin and the surrounding suburbs), and look back toward the past. Ireland’s economic depressions and the inheritance of related difficulties with employment and housing also play a role in each book. These four books are a series, loosely, in the sense that certain characters overlap; but each stands alone so well it’s almost a disservice to link them together. By no means would I recommend worrying about reading them all, or reading them in order.

In Broken Harbor, Mike “Scorcher” Kennedy is the reigning bad-ass murder detective on the Dublin squad, but the mistakes of a recent case, never described in detail, have him under a shadow; so he’s relieved and excited to get the latest gruesome, media-intensive case. He’s got a partner, Richie, a brand-new rookie from the wrong side of the tracks, which suits Scorcher because he’d just as soon work alone, and an easily-led rookie is the closest thing to working alone. A family of four named Spain – mom, dad, and two little ones – have been attacked in their home; three are dead, and the mom is in intensive care. Their home is in Brianstown, a fancy new development that got left unfinished in its earliest stages by the failing of of the housing boom; it’s not a pretty place after a few years’ decomposition since construction ceased. And, importantly, Brianstown used to be the seaside village of Broken Harbor, where Scorcher vacationed as a child with his family.

The important elements are several. The mystery of who nearly wiped out the Spain family is, on the face of things, the central plot, and it does keep Scorcher, Richie, and the reader busy for the entire book; the solution isn’t revealed until the final pages. A mystery within the mystery is what’s made all these holes in the walls of their home, and what force was haunting the Spain parents, otherwise poster children for a perfect life, right down to the magazine-worthy interior decor. The economic recession that killed Brianstown before it got out of the gate is an important detail that we attend to throughout, and is part of what makes Dublin & its suburbs the only place this story could be set. And then there are Scorcher’s demons: as we’ve seen in French’s other novels, his childhood connection to Broken Harbor will follow him through this seemingly unrelated case. This is a thriller not just because of the awful fate of the Spains, but also because of Scorcher’s family drama, still playing itself out. His training of the rookie, Richie, is poignant: the detective who never wanted a partner finds himself yearning for the camaraderie he’s observed in other partnerships, wondering if Richie could be “the one.” And finally, Scorcher is forced to do some philosophical questioning. The deal he’s made with the universe, his understanding of the source of the world’s evil, will be challenged.

The tone of this novel is one of my favorite parts. It’s dark, lush, and almost dreamy. Scorcher feels real to me even as he approaches caricature (hey, call me credulous, I’m enjoying this). He’s fatalistic, relying in part upon physical feelings that tell him when he’s getting close; we get hints that he knows what’s coming. His tortured persona, his tendency to distance himself even when he’d like to get close, is a recognizable genre type, but well-done all the same. I always appreciate French’s evocation of Ireland, its culture and the impact its economy continues to have. And the psychological drama of the Kennedy family had me on the edge of my seat. Certain elements are a little formulaic, sure, but beautifully wrought; and the lovely writing puts it in such a package that I don’t mind a bit. This is a great example of why I love Tana French.


Rating: 7 unpleasant memories.

Teaser Tuesdays: Broken Harbor by Tana French

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just open your current read to a random page and share a few sentences. Be careful not to include spoilers!

My excitement about Tana French has only grown as I’ve read her books, culminating with the first she wrote but the last I read, The Likeness. So I was very anxious to get my hands on her new book, Broken Harbor. My review is coming in a day or so, but for now I will tell you that she does not disappoint! Here’s an example of why:

It was October, a thick, cold, gray Tuesday morning, sulky and tantrumy as March.

The plot and the characters are wonderful, too. But I love the evocative tone of that one sentence. Doesn’t it help you picture Dublin (and surrounding areas), and feel the cold? The strong sense of place is one of my favorite elements of French’s mysteries. I’ll go ahead and give her points for “tantrumy,” too, although I’m sure some purists will be offended. 🙂

How’s your Tuesday, and what are you reading?

Deep Down by Lee Child

Jack Reacher is back. In this e-book-only short story, he’s back in the army, in his 20’s, making it chronologically one of the very early Reacher tales. He’s been called in from Frankfurt to Washington, D.C., where he’s put undercover as a sniper sitting in on a pre-committee… I know, bear with me… of politicos discussing a possible requisition for sniper rifles. Apparently the prior two meetings of these subcommittee politicos with military representatives have resulted in sensitive weapons information being leaked overseas, and Reacher is to find the leak. His handler in this operation is sure the leak is one of four women, and encourages Reacher to use his woman-wrangling skills as he sees fit. As we watch Reacher getting briefed and prepped in a slightly-too-small suit, we simultaneously see one of the women jogging into work. And the action begins. I’ll leave it at that in case you want to read it yourself.

Reacher fans will be able to predict how things play out. There are a few obligatory features: Reacher seems to read minds; he makes observations the average bear would not, and draws correct conclusions. There is flirtation. There is violence. He gets things right in the end. In these ways, it fits within the other Reacher stories we know and love.

What’s different here, though, is the format – and I don’t mean the e-book part, although I’m still not excited about that aspect either. No, I think I’m coming to the conclusion that short stories do not best showcase Reacher’s abilities. This is the second I’ve read, and The Second Son was interesting for the light it shed on Reacher’s past, brother Joe’s personality, and their relationship. I felt that Deep Down had some shortcomings. A lot of what I love in a full-length Reacher novel is development, the careful playing out of string, the stinginess with which we learn details, the way we get to know our characters better, often the development of a steamy relationship to boot: all things we need a full-length novel to do. While this story had all the elements Reacher needs (as observed), it didn’t give them the space they needed to grow. It didn’t do it for me. Instead, Deep Down read to me like what I fear it is: a hastily-produced holdover for Lee Child’s fans to satisfy themselves with while we await his new novel (A Wanted Man comes out in September). It was fun, and Reacher did kick butt, and it only took me 30 minutes to read – but that’s part of the problem. Only so much plot can come to fruition in a 30-minute read.

That last statement makes me wonder – is this really a problem inherent to the short story? And I don’t think it is. I’ve certainly read some very impressive, moving short stories by my favorite master of that genre, Hemingway. But you know, I don’t read a lot of short stories; I do find it a difficult genre, and I think I’m dissatisfied more often with short stories than I am with novels. New question, then: am I a poor reader of short stories, difficult to please? Or is this a difficult genre to do well in? I suspect the latter (although I’ll allow the former): with less space in which to develop characters and plot, an author has to be very precise and economical. This would help explain why Hemingway was so good at them, precision and economy being his hallmarks. And that author may need to take on less, plot-wise, so that he has time to flesh it out.

I have managed to make a rambling mess of this review. Perhaps I am not so strong on precision and economy, myself? At any rate, I found this a fine but decidedly below-average Reacher story; I am anxious for the next full-length book. Many thanks again to my mother for her loan of the e-reader so I could knock this one out on a lunch break!


Rating: 4 tough guys.

Death of a Valentine by M.C. Beaton (audio)

This is my first experience with M.C. Beaton, who I know is popular for both her Agatha Raisin series and her Hamish Macbeth series, of which this is one. You know me, I’m unafraid to jump in mid-series; and when it comes to audiobooks, I’ll take what I can get, which is how I ended up listening to Death of a Valentine.

I’ll start on a positive note. I liked the Scottish Highlands setting, with those local-flavor items like food & culture, and particularly in audio form when I was able to get the accent as well. Hamish Macbeth is an unoriginal but likeable bachelor policeman, unhappy with his recent promotion to Sergeant, which has landed him with an assistant. And here is my first negative: the assistant, Constable Jodie McSween, is intolerable. She became a policewoman more or less by accident, and has always capitalized on her good looks and general affability to get by. She has no interest in or aptitude for police work. And her raison d’être in Macbeth’s precinct of Lochdubh is… to land him as her husband. Never mind that all those good-looking, intelligent, proficient policewomen (and other professional women) out there just took a blow from this miserable character. She didn’t do this book any good, either.

The mystery story is unremarkable but mildly enjoyable. The local beauty queen in the next town over has been blown to bits by a letter bomb on Valentine’s Day, and as soon as the coppers start looking into things, her reputation falls apart. It becomes increasingly clear that instead of a dear, sweet, innocent, Godly little beauty, she was a manipulative jerk bent on stealing other girls’ boyfriends, and worse. And then lovestruck boys start dropping like flies. Hamish is on the case, and he’s pretty competent. There’s a rather fun interlude involving an elderly escaped lion that Hamish befriends; and he has a dog and a cat who accompany him around the countryside a good bit, and that’s nice and cute at all, although they’re not very well-developed characters. Hamish also has a small collection of female friends that he discusses his case details with (not advisable, I wouldn’t think, but this is a fairly fantastical story) and that drive Josie mad with jealousy.

But the sideplot of Josie’s love for Hamish is altogether nauseating and truly offensive. I’m pretty tolerant of the mistreatment of women in the fiction I read, when it’s in pursuit of a good story, but this is just rubbish. She’s worthless, unlikeable, mooning, needy, and dumb as dirt. Am I supposed to care about what happens to this woman? No, I join Hamish in being perplexed and annoyed by her strange behaviors. She tries to drug and date-rape him, in consummately inept fashion. I mean, really.

I finished this book. I wanted to see (hear) what would happen. I generally interpret this desire to finish a book as a redeeming quality. I don’t know, there were some cute moments, but there were also some distasteful moments. I can’t quite decide, for example, if all the moaning about marriage as a miserable end of all the fun (“those who were not married found the whole idea of a wedding romantic, and those who were had a feeling of schadenfreude that some other poor soul was about to be chained in holy matrimony”) is funny or just plain offensive. In the end, while I found some moments in Death of a Valentine cute, my overall impression leans towards a) being offended by the insufferable Josie and the depiction of women in general, and b) rolling my eyes at a ridiculous plot and underdeveloped characters. No more M.C. Beaton for me, thanks.


Note: good marks to narrator Graeme Malcolm, who was funny and heck, I don’t know Scottish accents very well but I found his amusing and convincing. I don’t hold this book against him.


Rating: 3 puppy dogs.

Dead Scared by S.J. Bolton

A disturbing high-speed thriller involving a rash of university student suicides and a mysterious someone with the power to give bad dreams.

Detective Constable Lacey Flint thinks she is going undercover as an attractive but neurotic student at Cambridge University in the hopes of exposing whoever might be driving students to commit suicide at an alarming rate and by violent means. The longer she spends living on campus and undergoing hazing and humiliation, however, and the more she learns about those earlier suicide cases, the less clear her role becomes. The university counselor who is her only contact is clearly living in fear, as are many of the women around her, and Lacey begins to undergo the same out-of-body experiences and gruesome nightmares described by the girls who’ve killed themselves. Is Lacey herself at risk?

The enigmatic DC Flint, introduced in 2011’s Now You See Me, has a storied past that Bolton leaves largely unrevealed–a trait shared by many other characters. Alternating with Lacey’s first-person perspective, the novel regularly checks back with her superior officer, Detective Inspector Mark Joesbury, who struggles with the truth of what he’s sent Lacey into. They share a shadowy past and some chemistry, but this is one of several aspects left shrouded in mystery, adding to the compelling, suspenseful mood established by thematic elements like evil clowns, sexual abuse, gory scenes of suicide and a panoply of psychiatric issues. Fast-paced, spooky and uncomfortable, Dead Scared keeps its reader on edge until the final paragraph.


This review originally ran in the June 8, 2012 issue of Shelf Awareness for Readers. To subscribe, click here, and you’ll receive two issues per week of book reviews and other bookish fun!


Rating: 6 whispers on the back of your neck.

The Prestige by Christopher Priest (audio)

I felt confident in choosing this audiobook because – while I can’t remember who recommended it – I recall that two sources I respected (book blogs, I think) both praised it around the same time. Safe, I thought. Well, I am reminded again: we cannot all like the same things.

The Prestige opens with a first-person narrator named Andrew, embarking on a trip to cover a story for his newspaper job which he finds generally uninteresting. Andrew is adopted, and cares nothing for the truth of his birth family except for the all-consuming feeling he has that he has a twin. What he has managed to learn about his birth parents indicates that there was no twin, but he feels the presence of that other person too strongly to entertain any other explanation. So he arrives in search of the newspaper story – and if this already sounds disjointed, then right ho, that’s how I found it too – and what do you know, the story he’s pursuing turns out to be related to the mystery of his family’s past. Apparently Andrew’s great-grandfather was a magician, one of the very best in Britain and in the world, and his nemesis – the other greatest magician in Britain and in the world – was the great-grandfather of this young woman from whom he finds himself sitting across a table. In pursuit of, um, a newspaper story. But there is no story, really it’s about getting these two together.

And then the story of Andrew (and Kate, the young lady descended from the other magician) breaks off, and we are treated to the diary of Alfred Borden, Andrew’s predecessor. Now the story of Borden’s life, magical career, and lifelong enmity with the Great Danton is presented from Borden’s point of view; after which we break off and view the corresponding histories from the Great Danton’s perspective, via his own diaries. Finally we come back around to Andrew’s narrative.

The overarching mystery of the book is the question of how each of these magicians performs his great iconic stage act. The two illusions are similar, but apparently are performed in different ways, which are not made clear to us until the final few chapters. It is an interesting mystery, and frankly it is that that kept me going until the end of this book. Andrew, and his desire to discover the truth about the mysterious twin, interested me. But the flashback stories (in diary form) of the rival magicians really failed to compel me, and dragged on too slowly. The mysteries of the magic trick, and of the questionable twin, I must confess were so engrossing that I wanted to continue and learn the truth. But the path there was more frustrating in its pace than enjoyably anticipatory, and I cannot give this book much of an endorsement. I was interested enough in the overall story to finish the book, but almost constantly impatient to get to the big reveal. And, worse, I was disappointed in the big reveal; but no more should be said about that in case you check it out yourself. I suppose you’re unlikely to do so on my recommendation! But I assure you there are positive reviews out there.

I wonder if it wasn’t the frame element of stage magic that failed to grab me. I don’t find myself particularly interested. (Despite all the excitement over The Night Circus, I am unlikely to pick that one up.) The pacing was a lot of what did this one in for me, and the personalities of the two magicians, Borden and Danton: they weren’t terribly sympathetic or likeable. I was frustrated and exasperated with them for most of the book. What can I say, this review has descended into a litany of complaints. Sometimes they don’t work for us. Better luck in the next book, yes?


Rating: 3 magic tricks.

book beginnings on Friday: The Prestige by Christopher Priest

Thanks to Rose City Reader for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

I am listening to The Prestige based on the recommendations of (I think) multiple fellow book bloggers. I am fairly sure that one of them was The Boston Bibliophile, but I am only fairly sure of that, and the other recommender(s) escape me. At any rate… I know the book involves magicians, stage magic, and I know little else, so here we are:

It began on a train, heading north through England, although I was soon to discover that the story had really begun more than a hundred years earlier. I had no sense of any of this at the time: I was on company time, following up a report of an incident at a religious sect.

I like that, “it began on a train…” reminds me actually of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express, and there are worse things than evoking the Queen of Crime! Although she’s a hard act to follow… I’ll keep you posted.

book beginnings on Friday: Dead Scared by S.J. Bolton

Thanks to Rose City Reader for hosting this meme. To participate, share the first line or two of the book you are currently reading and, if you feel so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line.

This week I’m reading an advanced review copy of S.J. Bolton’s latest thriller, Dead Scared, and it is indeed scary. It begins, in the prologue:

Tuesday 22 January (a few minutes before midnight)

When a large object falls from a great height, the speed at which it travels accelerates until the upward force of air resistance becomes equal to the downward propulsion of gravity. At that point, whatever is falling reaches what is known as terminal velocity, a constant speed that will be maintained until it encounters a more powerful force, most commonly the ground.

I’ll leave you to ponder what might be falling.

This quotation comes from an uncorrected advance proof and is subject to change.