Blown Away
Currently sitting on a shelf, taking up more than eight running feet of space, I’ve got a collection of Stuart Woods’ books. Most of the “Stone Barrington” books, and most of those are first edition hardbacks — with intact covers. There are a few spin-off series, too, and I think I’ve got most of those. Not quite a hundred books, but one aspect of the books themselves? Finely published. Putnam imprint, the binding, paper, pages, and then the cover art, all finely wrought.
When he was alive, Stuart Woods (Capricorn) produced three or four taut novels in a year. I admired the workman-like prose, the way the story and plot advanced at a rapid pace with just enough details to sketch out the action.
I recall two trips when I was reading one of these novels, one was an El Paso run, and I was in Grace’s garage, lights on, while everyone else was watching TV, reading the then-latest. The other trip was 7-hour return flight from Seattle, I started the book at the gate and finished it an hour or so before landing back in San Antonio.
I missed the announcements about the latest release in the series, Stuart Woods passed a few years back, but the ghosts keep writing. Picked it up at the bookstore, and vowed to save it for a future trip, only, yeah, holidays and all, I wound up reading it as an idle holiday amusement.
Blown Away
I’ll remember the character’s names, some of the backstory, the family trees that branch throughout the volumes of works, but the actual story itself/ sometimes I don’t recall any of it, just how felt when I was reading it. Action, adventure, cold easily be filmed on back lot in Hollywood.
Fine fiction.
Blown Away
Made me think about the other times I’ve enjoyed this brand of entertainment. While not every book is a winner, the competent publishing makes it a predictable joy for me to read. It’s something outside of my usual line of mystics and metaphysics.
