April was a blur
for several reasons I’ll not bore you with. (I certainly wasn’t bored, but my
ego is not such that I would presume the events would be anything but to you.)
I did, however read one worth passing along.*
The
Mexican Tree Duck,
James Crumley. Man, I love Crumley. It’s probably best not to try too hard to
decipher his plots. Just go along for the ride. His Raymond Chandler meets
Hunter Thompson style may not be for everyone, but I enjoy it. His characters
sing, the dialog is as smart as its speakers would be but no smarter, and as
interesting as you’d want them to be. This one sends C.W. Sughrue from Montana
to Mexico is pursuit of a biker’s missing mother, who may be a rich woman who
might be a kidnap victim, or just doesn’t want to be found. Who’s in charge and
who’s the victim changes through the story and the ending had enough twists to
do James Ellroy proud. Crumley’s famous for having written what many consider
to be the greatest opening line ever, in The
Last Good Kiss. Examples all through the rest of his books show he didn’t
just pull it out of his ass.
* -- I did read an
ARC that shows great promise, but I don’t like to do anything there until the
time is right. No vaguebooker, I.
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