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Post by parkerskid on May 21, 2009 20:46:01 GMT -5
Although I've had it for 6 months, today I started Nelson DeMille's The Gate House and I've found it very hard to put down.
The language, although not flowery, paints a vivid mind picture.
"George, a good man, had died a decade ago , and his wife, Ethel, who is not so nice, is in hospice care and about to join her husband, unless George has already had a word with St. Peter, the ultimate gatekeeper. "Wasn't I promised eternal rest & peace? Can't she go someplace else? She always liked hot weather."
Four sentences sum up both George and Ethel in a nutshell. The long-suffering spouse had had enough of Ethel to last him more than a lifetime and definitely didn't want to see her again.
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Post by Fairweather on May 21, 2009 21:15:48 GMT -5
That sounds like a good one, Linda. I haven't read any of Nelson DeMille's books that I recall. I may start with this one.
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Post by parkerskid on May 21, 2009 21:51:04 GMT -5
That sounds like a good one, Linda. I haven't read any of Nelson DeMille's books that I recall. I may start with this one. Fair, the book in question is a sequel to an earlier novel "The Gold Coast", so you may want to look at that one first. Having read all of DeMille's books I can tell you I've enjoyed every one. |
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Post by parkerskid on May 22, 2009 13:43:56 GMT -5
More humor from "The Gate House".
John Sutter is searching a florist's shop for a gift for the dying Ethel:
"I need something for an elderly lady who's in a hospice and doesn't have much time left." I glanced at my watch to emphasize that point.'
"I see...so------"
"I am not particularly fond of her."
"All right ....then---"
"I mean cactus would be appropriate, but she'll have other visitors, so I need something that looks nice. It doesn't have to last long."
"I understand. So perhaps----"
"It can't look like a funeral arrangement, Right?"
John is not a bit fond of Ethel (mutual, by the way) but he's not quite ready for her to die. He is currently living in her house and on her passing the house reverts to the owner who has allowed Ethel to live in it until her death-a proviso of the sale of the house by Ethel's previous employer.
Poor Ethel: her deceased husband doesn't want her in heaven and John doesn't want her to die only because he needs a roof over his head.
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Post by parkerskid on Jun 1, 2009 14:48:50 GMT -5
Poor Ethel has finally kicked the bucket.
"----the four of us stood there looking at Ethel Allard.
She seemed so peaceful-I mean she wasn't moving or anything---
Susan whispered, 'She's so beautiful.'
I agreed, 'She looks good.' For someone who's old and dead.
Elizabeth nodded and said,'I'm happy that she's with Dad now.'
Well----who knows where she is or whom she's with."
I've never had so many LoL moments while reading a book that is ostensibly about the mafia.
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Post by Fairweather on Jun 9, 2009 13:51:34 GMT -5
Anecdote about crime novels and never, EVER judging a book by looking at the cover:
Wk. before last Auntie and I pd. a 2nd visit to my local used bookstore--so we're in the mystery aisle (I was hoping they had some Rex Stout/Nero Wolfe, but no such luck) when I all but bumped into this lovely little whitehaired lady--couldn't remember her name, but she is a pillar of one of the local churches, the kind you'd imagine sitting reading Regency romances--and she confides: "I just love Patricia Cornwell's books, but I'm not sure which ones I've read and which ones I haven't."
Teach me to make assumptions about reading habits!
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Post by parkerskid on Sept 3, 2009 1:49:17 GMT -5
I have to put this down in writing before I burst. Having read one of Gregg Hurwitz' books which I thoroughly enjoyed, I bought his latest, "Trust No One". I am so distracted by his use of nouns converted into verbs, it's spoiling the book for me. The first 3 examples took place in a stretch of 3 short paragraphs.
1) Then a dark form pendulumed down at me.
2) I guppied silently, a knot of cramped muscles still holding my lungs captive.
3) Three men flipped me and proned me out.
4) A little girl white-knuckled her father's hand.
5) We've been scrambling since this guy started beelining down 405.
This reads almost like the purple prose of a bodice-ripping romance novel. Is it me or is the language truly awful? I'm still only on page 15.
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