This book sparked my Lisa Gardner obsession. Turns out the best way to approach Goodwill book sections is to look for mass-market paperback thrillers This book sparked my Lisa Gardner obsession. Turns out the best way to approach Goodwill book sections is to look for mass-market paperback thrillers written by women. ...more
Absolutely fascinating. So while I am convinced by the authors' argument that humans aren't biologically monogamous, I'm still not sure what to do witAbsolutely fascinating. So while I am convinced by the authors' argument that humans aren't biologically monogamous, I'm still not sure what to do with that information. Good luck to us all....more
I finished this during the Dark Time when I had no internet at home. This is arguably the best/worst time to read nonfiction about brutal mass murdersI finished this during the Dark Time when I had no internet at home. This is arguably the best/worst time to read nonfiction about brutal mass murders, and I adjusted my bedroom lighting accordingly. I can never undo what I've done....more
I've read other Bachman books, but this one stands out as being particularly hilarious. There's a self-referential moment towards the end that made meI've read other Bachman books, but this one stands out as being particularly hilarious. There's a self-referential moment towards the end that made me guffaw in a way that I never have at a horror novel.
That said, King does some pretty annoying stuff when it comes to—what I presume he's illustrating, anyway—internal feedback loops of characters. The protagonist's stream of consciousness spews the phrase "tit-grabber" in reference to another minor character about 80 times, and I was over it before he made the first remark. Okay, so he fondled your wife at a New Years' Party. Sucks to be you! You're also filthy rich and still (at least at the very beginning of the book) have a great relationship with your spouse, which doesn't seem to be marred by the NYE incident in the slightest. Not sure if it was a red herring gone sour or just some charming detail that "Bachman" thought he'd throw in there ("At least it wasn't flatulence," says the girl who read Dreamcatcher), but either way, it was the most disappointing part of Thinner.
Also, in case you haven't surmised as much, the dude loses crazy weight in this book and it was hard for me not to be jealous. All the food he eats on the reg made me want a homemade twice-baked potato and some bread from Red Lobster. Oh, and a pound of butter. Mmm....more
While I admit to becoming engrossed in Jamaica Inn, it really can't hold a candle to du Maurier's classic Rebecca. The same dark clouds over the horizWhile I admit to becoming engrossed in Jamaica Inn, it really can't hold a candle to du Maurier's classic Rebecca. The same dark clouds over the horizon, that malevolent suspense, is done equally well in both, but while Rebecca has a sort of breathless and horrible unraveling, Jamaica Inn plods evilly and predictably towards the end. The resolution in Jamaica Inn gives the reader little in terms of either romantic or dramatic satisfaction. I'd recommend to any fan of Daphne du Maurier's, but not to many others....more
Thinking I had pulled quite a coup when I picked this up in Little Israel yesterday (Out of the Closet at Fairfax and Bev), I had quite the revelationThinking I had pulled quite a coup when I picked this up in Little Israel yesterday (Out of the Closet at Fairfax and Bev), I had quite the revelation on the bus this morning. Getting as far as page twenty-nine, I realized that not only is the Nanny Diaries a driveling disaster of a novel, but I had read it before and (almost) completely blocked it out. Either that, or there's some psuedo-trash floating around about a Nanny and somebody else named Mrs. X. Was there a movie? What is my problem?
Anyways, it's a long way to fall from The Long Goodbye, which sated me so much as a reader that I went through withdrawals when it was over. Will I finish The Nanny Diaries? Probably, but don't hold your breath for more wasted words typing about it. I've already said far too much....more
Never fancied myself a noir fan, but I savored every moment of this book. Doesn't hurt that Marlowe's hangouts are right around the Cahuenga corridor!Never fancied myself a noir fan, but I savored every moment of this book. Doesn't hurt that Marlowe's hangouts are right around the Cahuenga corridor!
The heroine of this book, Rowenna, is described as a "stunning woman. Her hair was nearly pitch-black, her eyes strikingly amber. ... Amber, like goldThe heroine of this book, Rowenna, is described as a "stunning woman. Her hair was nearly pitch-black, her eyes strikingly amber. ... Amber, like gold, and shaded by ridiculously thick lashes. She was both tall and slim, but curved in every place where a woman should have curves." O RLY, Heather Graham? Just this once, you couldn't skip the boobs and hips and make her tall, thin, gawky, and lanky? If all of your book's heroines have bodies like this, why don't they make sensible career choices like oh, say, being MODELS? "I know that God has dealt me this extremely physically favorable genetic hand and that I could make millions and get to travel the globe ... but I think I'm going to be a potter/psychic/matchmaker/detective/artist/chef."
If you're as romance-novel literate as I am and nimbly vaulted over the hurdle of Rowenna's goddessness, chances are you were still not able to stomach anything else in this book. Rowenna's supposed psychic powers are supposed to gleam under the scrutiny of her equally dull counterpart, Jeremy Flynn; while Flynn's belief in "hard work, science, logic, and intelligent investigative techniques" is frequently stated (sigh. SHOW, don't TELL, Heather Graham!), the inevitable challenge to these beliefs at the end of the novel is glossed over.
The most surprising thing about Deadly Harvest is how a story set in Salem, MA and rife with spooky scarecrows, graveyards, and old legends manages to fail so spectacularly. I even skipped the sex parts. Yawn, two perfect people have re-discovered their biological impulses and--like the simplest forms of life on earth ... pond scum, for example--are able to engage in a reproductive act. But ... can they love?
The Stranger is officially my first book read and completed on the bus ride to and from my new job. I guess this really does mean something to me, as The Stranger is officially my first book read and completed on the bus ride to and from my new job. I guess this really does mean something to me, as that's where I used to get much of my reading done in my UCLA days (romance novels instead of schoolwork, tsk tsk) and this time I'm really putting my foot down. No more hard covers!!!
Wow. None of that was about The Stranger. Well, friends, it was great, and it's short enough that nobody with a standing claim on high intelligence should skip it....more
First of all, I'd like to apologize to The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing for picking up and finishing Twilight about halfway through; however, tFirst of all, I'd like to apologize to The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing for picking up and finishing Twilight about halfway through; however, this mid-relationship dalliance only served to reaffirm my commitment to lovely, warming feminist prose. The Girls' Guide managed to make me cry with a breakup, and still yet lure me back to finish the final chapter.
I realize that I do the same thing with books as many people do with songs. For instance, I've been meaning to take some time and sit down with the lyrics to Alanis Morissette's Unsent and organize my ex-boyfriends by personality and emotional impression. Similarly, the Girls' Guide provides relationship templates that are dangerously easy for the reader to apply to her own life. The charismatic older boyfriend with a drinking problem, the soulmate you decide to keep by exercising The Rules, the attractive guy you don't feel worthy of, the lesbian you mistake for a threat. It doesn't matter that in my life none and all of these exist, in varying forms, in my romantic and platonic relationships both. The significance of Melissa Bank's work here is its absolute relevance to the lives of women who want someone, want to not want someone, want to feel okay with the Great Lack that seems to be boyfriendlessness and unmarriage.
By some unprovable significant coincidence, I bought this from Counterpoint at the same time as Ken Foster's The Kind I'm Likely To Get, which also emphasizes the pining of ill-fated relationships between perfectly mismatched, perfectly obsessed and relatable characters. Isn't it strange how there are so many books about love? Right, I know it's not. You're right, I know you're right....more
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