The Poet
Intriguing intro to the updated edition, by Stephen King, whom I respect. Heard the sequel was good, so I thought I would start at the beginning.
“But it’s hard to hold a grudge against the dead.” Page 21.
Just getting introduced.
As much as anything, after reading the text, what I recall? I was deeply involved, hooked, from that Stephen King intro, as much as anything. He suggested that the book scared him. I was less than a third of the way through the novel, when I shelved it for other tasks, like summer fish. I knew, moving forward, as twisted, as the tale was? It would be best, for me, if I just finished it all before I tried to sleep.
I was nodding out sleepy, but wide awake and alert because there are a few extra twists near the end. It’s not over until it’s over, and even, then, there was room for more.
I’m still looking for another series that’s been as enjoyable as the Sandford/Davenport/(effing)Flowers collections, and I’m not sure, looks like there are three in this group thus far, but the level of intensity is weirdly, I don’t know, addictive?
With the first denouement, according to the kindle, I had another 10% of the story left? I knew it wasn’t over.
Makes for exciting reading. I didn’t bother with reading notes, just a weird sense of the way it jumps around in narrative form, but still, tautly woven together.
When I got around to deciding if I liked it or loved it? I adored it. The premise and the extras, front-loaded, unbeknownst to the reader?
I kept thinking it was along some of the same ground as a Grisham novel of recent experience, but no, I could find no real-time connection. I think some of the background in one is the foreground in another.
There’s the wounded, flawed basic narrator, and he’s amusing to follow, blundering along with budding romance. Yeah, demands of the plot and such.
Very glad I started at the beginning, two more to go.
