Finished reading Anthony Horowitz's The Word is Murder on our flight from Rome to Amsterdam. Didn't really have much choice since I deeply needed to know whodunnit. And found a gratifyingly appropriate yet somewhat unexpected answer lying in wait in the final pages. This was my second easy read of the holiday. During our stay in Rome I'd happily succumbed to the predictable enjoyment of Jack Reacher being himself in Lee Child's Past Tense. Having said that, this one offered a bit more in the way of puzzlement than the usual Reacher adventure since it involved two seemingly unconnected plot lines that only came together in the final action-packed chapters. Highly contrived, of course, but beautifully worked.
Gosh, I do enjoy a good story - and the pleasure of recognising the sheer craft of this kind of popular fiction.
No comments:
Post a Comment