Fair Warning
Out of sequence, but not out of time.
“I knew the moment I decided to visit her the day before that I was buying myself another round of hope and hurt. But some people are fated this way, fated to play the same music over and over like a scratched record.” Page 156.
I’m stealing that line. Well, part of it.
Cool phrase.
For a change from cop procedurals, to private eye criminal proceedings, to shock thrillers?
It was an exciting romp along familiar lanes, and while it lacks some of the more subtle and gently nuanced marks of “great” literature, it was aa breath-taking ride through personal and professional circles, with most of the material coming from a bitter, anything-for-the-story, truth-matters “journalist.”
The main character, yeah I have much empathy with him, although, in the same situation, probably not me.
Should be obvious, I just hit “publish now” and move on.
I liked the novel because it’s just different enough, and just current enough to fit with the way things are, or how they could be.
Probably.
The correct term is verisimilitude, which means, “It feels true.”
While I didn’t stay up late to finish it, I did put off reading it late at night because, maybe halfway through, there’s a creepiness about the main killer that truly bothered me.
Like, you know, the stuff of nightmares.
Means I enjoyed it, but I wished I read them in order. First was The Poet, next is The Scarecrow, and finally, Fair Warning.
With room to grow. Like the character and like crispness to the story-telling. Thoroughly enjoy the frame of the news/journalism as backdrop, a distant memory for me.
