I cut your whole darn post, Mark, but I loved every bit of
it. Especially the comment about your suspicion that
contemporary writers of detective fiction are padding their
writing with the detectives' personal lives.
I don't know why but I've never read a lot of Lawrence Block.
Maybe part of it is that my first introduction was on this
list with When the Sacred Ginmill Closes. It was dark and
brooding but just a little bit dull, too. I think the novel
carries much more impact for someone who has traveled the
distance through the series.
I recently read Ticket to the Boneyard and liked it a lot. I
believe it occurs later in the series because in it Scudder
is sober, while in Ginmill the drinking is continuous. I've
already done a quick synopsis of the plot in an earlier post.
[Spoiler follows] In it a crazy killer haunts Scudder and his
whore girlfriend until Scudder murders the scumbag in the end
in a fine act of vigilante vengeance.
Since I couldn't hold on and keep that until the Block
extravaganza, I'm reading Hitman now. I've only got one other
Block besides that, and I think it's called Even the Wicked.
I had to smile because when I opened it up, Block had signed
it. Those authors must really grit their teeth at
booksignings when people show up with old piece-of-shit
paperbacks they want signed. Gotta love it.
I'll report back on Hitman when I do the deed. It's a skinny
book. Shouldn't take too long. And I want you to know that I
sacrificed wrapping up Tidyman's Shaft to fit this one
in.
miker
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