Well, I take back what I said in the previous entry- my roll came to a grinding halt a couple of weeks ago when I came down with (that's right) tonsillitis- again. Had it much worse and for longer this time, it completely knocked me for six. Didn't feel like I had a creative bone in my body, much less like picking up a pen! However, all is not lost, I could still pick up a book, and read a bit. So, in my hiatus from work I've managed to read a couple of novels all in the name of 'research'. Well, I say two; I'm still half way through the second.
So my thoughts- Book 1:
'Play Dead' by Harlan Coben. Hmm, what a load of tripe! This was part of the three for two deals at Waterstones, so not too annoyed about it- but definitely a waste of a couple of days of my life. Laughable characterisation and ridiculous plot with so many twists and turns it felt like a roller coaster- but not in a good way. The main characters were dislikeable and unrealistic and the word count dragged by slowly- I ended up skim reading the final half in an effort to reach the unsatisfying end. To be fair, this was Coben's first attempt at a novel written at the tender age of 20- and in my opinion this is where it should have safely stayed, instead of being released on an unsuspecting public. Good points- this 'thriller' read like a 'how not to of characterisation.
Book 2:
Sebastian Faulks' 'A Week in December'
God I couldn't have read two more different books. Faulk's prose is deliciously rich and vivid, yet the language is succinct, pointed and perfect. A Week in December is an honest and searingly accurate portrayal of our modern times. Haven't finished yet but am racing through the pages whenever I get a five minutes of reading time...
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