The dilemma of what to read!

*Lousy post warning!*

Of late I have become so fussy about buying a book, that I am actually quite amazed that there was a time when I was mad about fiction. But seriously what do you pick? Almost everything has a sense of deja vu attached to it. Enter any WHSmiths store and you have fiction easily classifiable into these catgories:

1. The wannabe Da Vinci Codes: This phenomenon has been on the book shelves since early last year, and it sucks. And I am referring to the Grail which the whole publishing world is frigging mad about . The plot–A murder mystery that spirals into some weird kind of historically revealing quest. Give or take a few changes, the basic story is a mere means to an end of some bizarre revelation about some sect or some secret society. I mean why would I read 600 pages of something that’s no-way as controversial or relevant and tries to be as smart as the Code. Some worthy new examples:

2. The chick-lits: Terribly sexist I know, but I just won’t pay up to read a good 500 pages just to find out how a certain Kathryn reacted when her friend slept with her fiance. And no I don’t care if a certain Ms Darcy Rhone starts to think that there’s more to life than just getting inside a size 6. Worthy new examples:

3. Hey! Look I am quirky: Now these are the sort of books which have plotlines not complicated just because they should be, but because they can be. Bizarre covers and blurbs add to the shock value but its the same old family yarn/scandal from the first page. Give me one good reason why I should spend my £10 and 5 hours on these and not watch another episode of EastEnders or Hollyoaks. Yes, you won’t find me holding any of these:

4. Yet another generic thriller: These are vomited out in dizzyingly rapid succession by the supposed thespians of the genre but are indeed so minimalistic and rushed (that, and shamefully spaced out and margined by publishers), it only takes reading one or two to know that you have just been ripped off for reading something that CSI on Channel 5 (which is free) would have shown you with far more speed and audio-visual razzmatazz. So no I am not reading any of these:

5. Read my sob story: Blame Dave Pelzer and his “A Child Called It” for this depressing stream of books where everyone seems to be kicked, bruised, strangled and made to drink Baygon in their childhood. It happens-yes. Do I want to spend my leisure time reading every such account of abuse in graphic detail? Hell no. So, these are out as well:

And no, I am not into classics, biographies, autobiographies, Terry Pratchetts or any of the fantasy world ilk, tired and I am past the age of getting any fun from Stephen Kings, Dean Koontzes, Robin Cooks, John Grishams and Michael Palmers. And yes, I have had enough of Jeremy Clarkson’s wisecracks too. So I won’t be reading all of this as well:

Yea, you can accuse me all you want for my shallow comments and my stinginess on books-to-be-picked, but seriously nothing on the bookshelves catches my fancy nowadays.

And no I just can’t trust a newspaper critic’s opinion on something I am going to spend much of my week with. Yes, I have seen some very ghastly and truly horrible pieces of writing applauded and awarded for being the best writing ever, and so I have stopped following newspaper reviews altogether.

So where does that leave me? With my gut instinct. I finally I left it to sheer luck to fetch me a book that’s fresh, intelligent, dense, incisive, sharp, honest, funny, inventive and above all has the ability to hook me all through and is worth my time. Did I find it? Oh YES.

And its called… All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses An Eye.

I am halfway through the book and I can’t believe how good it is. To sum it up, its more of a Dan Brown meets Ian McEwan (just what I wanted!). Yup, its got the speed, the thrill, the menace and its a brilliant character study. Atleast in my reasonably credible (so much for modesty hehe) reading vocation, I have seldom come across a thriller which treats the characters with as much respect as the plot. And what language! I have never read a book in this genre that’s this quotable or that actually feels as if some thought really has gone into sentence construction. Plus its fiendishly inventive. It doesn’t feel like a story crafted to get the sales and the bucks. Its real. its funny. Its just downright fantastic.

For those interested, here’s a synopsis:

“As a teenager Jane Bell had dreamt of playing in the casinos of Monte Carlo in the company of James Bond, but in her punk phase she’d got herself pregnant and by the time she reaches forty-six she’s a grandmother, her dreams as dry as the dust her Dyson sucks up from her hall carpet every day. Then her son Ross, a researcher working for an arms manufacturer in Switzerland, is forced to disappear before some characters cut from the same cloth as Blofeld persuade him to part with the secrets of his research. But they are not the only ones desperate to locate him. A team of security experts is hired by Ross’s firm: headed by the enigmatic Bett, his staff have little in common apart from total professionalism and a thorough disregard for the law. Bett believes the key to Ross’s whereabouts is his mother, and in one respect he is right, but even he is taken aback by the verve underlying her determination to secure her son’s safety as she learns the black arts of quiet subterfuge and violent attack. The teenage dreams of fast cars, high-tech firepower and extreme action had always promised to be fun and games, but in real life it’s likely someone is going to lose an eye … “

I am just glad I waited a good four months after McEwan to finally finish this book. I am already your fan Mr. Brookmyre, and going by the list of books you have written, I look forward to be entertained for the rest of the year. Yoohoo!