The Tzer Island book blog features book reviews written by TChris, the blog's founder.  I hope the blog will help readers discover good books and avoid bad books.  I am a reader, not a book publicist.  This blog does not exist to promote particular books, authors, or publishers.  I therefore do not participate in "virtual book tours" or conduct author interviews.  You will find no contests or giveaways here.

The blog's nonexclusive focus is on literary/mainstream fiction, thriller/crime/spy novels, and science fiction.  While the reviews cover books old and new, in and out of print, the blog does try to direct attention to books that have been recently published.  Reviews of new (or newly reprinted) books generally appear every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Reviews of older books appear on occasional weekends.  Readers are invited and encouraged to comment.  See About Tzer Island for more information about this blog, its categorization of reviews, and its rating system.

Monday
Jul152013

The Widow's Strike by Brad Taylor

Published by Dutton on July 16, 2013

When writers churn out novels with the speed that Brad Taylor has been adding to the Pike Logan series, there's usually a noticeable decline in quality from book to book. Surprisingly, Taylor's books are getting better. The Widow's Strike might be the best of them. It's exciting, intelligent, action-filled, and fast-moving. The story is plausible. The characters continue to evolve. They're forced to make tough decisions, the sort of decisions that have emotional consequences, and Taylor never makes the mistake of posturing his characters as robotic superhumans who are unaffected by their work. They aren't infallible, they second-guess their decisions, they have regrets. Taylor's ability to humanize his action heroes sets him apart from many other authors working in the same genre.

On loan to a Taskforce team that isn't his own, Knuckles has managed to get himself jailed in Thailand, a situation that Pike soon remedies. Since Pike and his team are already in Thailand, they're given a mission in Bangkok. The Taskforce target this time is General Malik Musavi of Iran's Qud Force. Although the Taskforce isn't certain what he's up to, the reader knows he's trying to obtain a mutated version of bird flu (the infamous H5N1 virus) to use as a biological weapon. That's been done before, but Taylor twists the story enough to make a familiar plot seem reasonably fresh.

A connecting plot thread concerns a Chechen suicide bomber. Pike and his team chase down clues that are spread across Thailand, Hong Kong, and Singapore before returning to the United States. Back home, a civilian member of the Taskforce's oversight council needs some oversight of his own.

As always, I'm impressed by Taylor's ability to get into the minds of Pike's enemies, to portray them as reasoning human beings rather than stereotypes of evil. And as he has in other novels, Taylor goes out of his way to expose the dull-witted intolerance of certain Americans who view foreign affairs in simplistic terms. But here, too, Taylor avoids stereotyping, taking care to point out that not all Americans are xenophobes or religious bigots.

The Widow's Strike follows the formula that drove the earlier Pike Logan novels: Pike's Taskforce team is sent on a mission with strict orders not to interfere with the target or do anything conspicuous; Pike decides the orders aren't useful and disregards them in favor of action; Pike's team prevents a worldwide catastrophe. It's a reliable formula, and while it might get old at some point, Taylor uses here with predictable but fun results.

RECOMMENDED

Sunday
Jul142013

The Disappearance by J.F. Freedman

First published in 1998; published digitally by Open Road Media on May 28, 2013

The Disappearance is a low octane novel. Although J.F. Freedman assembled the elements that characterize strong legal thrillers -- a troubled lawyer, a shocking crime, a dramatic trial -- dull moments and lackluster writing detract from the reading experience.

Fourteen-year-old Emma Lancaster is apparently abducted from her bedroom. A year after the discovery of her dead body (and the corresponding discovery that Emma was pregnant), an up-and-coming news anchor, Joe Allison, is arrested for her murder. The arrest comes after a police officer stops Allison on suspicion of drunk driving, searches Allison's glove compartment, and finds Emma's key chain. The officer's remarkable ability to associate the key chain with a girl who had been missing for a year is extraordinarily unlikely, but it forms the basis for Allison's arrest and prosecution.

Even less likely is Allison's inability to find a high quality lawyer willing to defend him, supposedly because the victim's father (who owns the television station that employs Allison) has too much clout in Santa Barbara. Given the plethora of excellent Los Angeles lawyers who would be climbing over each other to take a high profile case like this one, the premise is mildly ridiculous, but it gives Freedman the excuse to introduce outcast lawyer Luke Garrison, who reluctantly agrees to take the case.

Although he's annoyingly self-righteous, Luke is a more intriguing character than legal thrillers typically generate. Formerly the hot-shot district attorney in Santa Barbara (and still fond of the moralizing speeches that district attorneys make during political campaigns), Luke left Santa Barbara after he discovered that he had prosecuted and caused the execution of an innocent man. He still has demons to exorcise, and returning to Santa Barbara to defend Allison seems like the place to start. Complicating his life is the fact that someone is trying to kill him.

Unfortunately, a strong premise and an intriguing character aren't enough to make a thriller thrilling. Although The Disappearance isn't a particularly long novel, some lengthy scenes are made all the lengthier by their tedium. Luke is overwhelmed by the importance of the trial, and by the fourth or fifth description of Luke's anxiety, I was ready to say, "I got it. Move on." Too much of the novel is redundant: Luke ponders the same evidence, over and over (yes, that's what lawyers do, but it doesn't make for exciting reading); Luke thinks about his past and questions the choices he made; Luke frets about his relationship with his girlfriend. Endlessly.

More significantly, during the first two-thirds of the novel, The Disappearance fails to exploit the drama that inheres in crime and uncertain accusations. Much of the story reads like nonfiction, the work of a true crime journalist reporting the facts with an air of detachment. The emotional responses that strong legal thrillers generate are largely absent from this one. Fortunately, those problems lessen once the trial is underway. Courtroom scenes are tense. The "inside baseball" of trial procedure is handled well, as are the politics of prosecution. Freeman understands the fear that trial judges have of following the law if that means excluding evidence of guilt from a trial, because the voting public would rather have judges disregard the law if the law compels results that the public doesn't like.

While the novel's ultimate resolution is satisfying, some aspects of the story --particularly Allison's actions on the night Emma disappears -- are completely implausible. The buildup about the strength of the case against Allison is laughable. There are no witnesses to the killing, no DNA. The physical evidence that ties Allison to the disappearance (none of which the real killer would likely have kept) isn't nearly enough to assure a "slam dunk" conviction, despite Luke's repeated assurances to the contrary. There might have been better evidence if used condoms had been tested for DNA, but the failure to do so isn't explained, or even noticed. While emotions and theatrics are common enough in courtrooms, the lawyers are given to tantrums that struck me as unrealistic.

Although I like the story more than its execution -- it never delivers the suspense that Freeman intended -- on balance, The Disappearance is a novel I would guardedly recommend to fans of legal thrillers. There are enough entertaining moments in the far-fetched plot to make it worthwhile, but not enough to make it memorable.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Saturday
Jul132013

Lost Girls by Robert Kolker

Published by Harper on July 9, 2013

In December 2010, the remains of four young women were found buried in Oak Beach, a community in one of New York's barrier islands. The women all worked as escorts, as did a fifth woman whose body was discovered later. They all disappeared between 2007 and 2010. Arguing that these lost girls do not deserve to be stereotyped and forgotten simply because they engaged in prostitution, Robert Kolker brings them back to life in a book that is dedicated to telling their stories, if not to solving the mystery of their killer(s).

A pregnant high school dropout at sixteen, Maureen went through a series of dead-end jobs and failed relationships. A hair stylist in training who did well in high school, Melissa saw a path out of Buffalo when a man (who turned out to be a pimp) offered her a job cutting hair in a New York barbershop. Rebellious, impossible to control, and marked as white trash, Megan was impregnated by a thirty-two year old when she was seventeen. Sexually abused as a child, Amber eventually joined her sister at an escort service because the workers provided her with a sense of family. All of the women advertised on Craigslist and disappeared after making appointments with unidentified clients.

Raised in a series of foster homes, Shannon worked for an escort agency that catered to high-end clients before the police put it out of business. She also turned to Craigslist. Her last appointment was in Oak Beach. Unlike the other lost girls, Shannon made quite a scene before she disappeared, running around Oak Beach screaming and banging on doors, perhaps frightened by something, perhaps suffering from cocaine psychosis. She called 911 but got no help from the police. Her client that night was Joe Brewer. When the remains of four women were found buried at regular intervals along an Oak Beach highway, Brewer became a person of interest. Shannon's body, however, was not one of the four. Her skeleton was found a year later. Whether she was murdered or accidentally drowned in a marsh is unknown; the autopsy was inconclusive, although it seems to have been less than thorough.

Once the police started digging, they found several more bodies. How many of the bodies are connected to the same killer is unclear. Some have never been identified. Rumors identified a variety of suspects, from Long Island clammers to New York cops, from pimps to "my ex-husband" (two of those, actually). Kolker reports stronger reasons to be suspicious of a doctor who made an odd phone call in which he claimed to have seen Shannon, then denied making the call before admitting the call but disclaiming any knowledge of Shannon. Strange behavior, yes, but far from proof of guilt. Kolker also reports a variety of (mostly farfetched) conspiracy theories that took root in the insular world of Oak Beach, with its petty jealousies and backstabbing neighbors.

Lost Girls is thoroughly researched and easy to read, but it doesn't solve the crimes. Then again, neither did the police. One of Kolker's strongest themes is the indifference of law enforcement to crimes committed against prostitutes. Escorts never receive the same attention as advantaged girls from wealthy families who go missing. When Melissa disappeared, the police ignored her missing persons report for ten days because (as they candidly admitted) they are unconcerned about hookers who can't be found. The police in Suffolk County laughed when Shannon's boyfriend reported her disappearance. At least initially (before the bodies were discovered), the investigative work by family members (which Kolker describes in detail) was more thorough than any efforts made by the police. Still, some family members seemed to be exploiting the tragedies for their own benefit, basking in the attention they received as the mother or sister of a crime victim. The sections of the book that depict family members sniping at each other are among the most interesting. The chief of detectives who investigated the case, on the other hand, resents the pressure he received from family members and condemns the victims for being "greedy." There are no heroes in Lost Girls, but the least heroic are all the police officers who didn't think potential crimes against missing prostitutes were important enough to investigate. Even worse are those who blame the prostitutes, who imply that they deserved to die.

Of course, once the bodies were discovered and it became likely that a serial killer was responsible, the talking heads of crime media descended like vultures. Kolker has done a credible and detached job of reporting, unlike many of the media sensationalists who reported the story, particularly Nancy Grace, who made factual pronouncements with absolute certainty despite knowing none of the facts. Pundits busied themselves making monsters out of any plausible suspects while exploiting the tears shed by the victims' families to boost ratings.

As is often true of book-length investigative journalism, we are sometimes treated to facts that seem like filler, including the history of Oak Brook and biographical details of pimps and drivers who play only a collateral role in the crime story. On the other hand, Kolker offers a compassionate glimpse of the difficult and dangerous life that prostitutes live, and includes a balanced (but too brief) discussion about whether Craigslist provides a useful service or causes social harm by permitting escorts to advertise. Most importantly, Kolker encourages readers to see prostitutes as individuals. They don't all have the same story. They haven't all been trafficked or abused. They come from different family backgrounds and have different attitudes about their work. Perhaps the one thing that unites them is their vulnerability to crime in a society that marginalizes their existence. Apart from its objective reporting of an unsolved mystery, that theme makes The Lost Girls worth reading.

RECOMMENDED

Friday
Jul122013

Fiend by Peter Stenson

Published by Crown on July 9, 2013

Although I'm convinced the world doesn't need another zombie novel, Fiend twists the genre in an interesting way. The title could refer to zombies, or it could refer to the dope fiends who are the novel's protagonists. They were metaphorical zombies, spending their lives "walking that thin line between suicide and preservation," even before a plague killed everyone and began reanimating corpses. Fiend is about living as a drug addict more than it's about zombies, but it may be necessary these days to add zombies to a novel in order to get it published. In any event, zombies are always good for a laugh, and the early chapters of Fiend offer some very funny moments. At the same time, an addict's misery isn't funny at all. Peter Stenson makes it feel raw and real. The metaphor, addict as zombie, is apt and effective.

Two meth addicts, Chase Daniels and Typewriter, think they're hallucinating when they see a little girl disemboweling a Rottweiler. They flee after a violent encounter with the girl. The world seems to have emptied itself during the 168 hours they were busy getting high. They eventually realize that only meth addicts survived the plague. Fortunately for Chase, his ex-girlfriend is still an addict and still alive. Chase is determined to find her, but his more immediate mission is to find more meth.

Chase is the novel's narrator. Meth is "the one and only constant" in his life, his reason for living. Part of the novel is Chase's eloquent love letter to drugs. "Yeah, they demand a lot of attention and effort, but their love is legendary, their compassion endless." His description of addition, his need to get high and his revelry in the result, the pain he caused his family, the devastation of his life, is compelling and convincing. His anguish in some of the novel's more violent moments is touching.

I love Chase's descriptions of his friends, particularly Albino, who lives in the woods and cooks meth. Heavily armed and seriously paranoid, Albino has the best chance of surviving because "he's that guy, the one who thought people were coming to slit his throat since he was old enough to crawl." Chase watches his ex-girlfriend make a speedball and thinks about "all the things that caused her to use her skills and deft hands for the mixing of drugs instead of transplanting kidneys."

Maybe drugs will kill you, but in Fiend not having drugs will kill you, and that's what sets Fiend apart from other zombie novels and from other "my life as an addict" novels. Can meth addicts -- "outcasts, the people America wants to pretend aren't walking the street" -- create utopia, as Chase imagines in his highest moments? Can the addicted do anything to advance the survival of humanity? Maybe they're just another kind of zombie, but they need to try, because "a junkie without hope is as good as dead."

Stenson writes with real power. Some scenes are brutal, and not just those involving zombie violence. The strongest scenes involve characters trying to deal with each other, to cope with their own insecurities and weaknesses. Fiend asks whether zombies are any more dangerous than frightened, living humans, but zombies are really just a vehicle that lets Stenson tell a larger story: the story of what it means to be a flawed human being, as are we all. Because of its creative use of zombies to tell a story that isn't about zombies, I consider Fiend to be one of the best zombie novels I've encountered.

RECOMMENDED

Wednesday
Jul102013

The Right Side of Wrong by Reavis Z. Wortham

Published by Poisoned Pen Press on July 2, 2013

Cody Parker is driving through one of the few snowstorms he's seen in his life when a shotgun blast, combined with an icy road, sends him skidding over a cliff. The shooting and the crash are bad enough, but when Cody is about to be eaten by a pack of wild dogs, he knows he's having a bad day. Cantankerous Constable Ned Parker is determined to learn who ambushed Cody. The motive for the attempted murder turns out to be implausibly weak.

As is typical of Reavis Wortham's Red River novels, the most enjoyable chapters are narrated by young Top, whose conversations with his foul-mouthed cousin Pepper always make me laugh. They're the first to meet their new neighbor, an eighty-plus cowboy named Tom Bell. He's mysterious about his past, so you know Top and Pepper are going to learn something about him that they aren't supposed to know.

The other series regular, Deputy John Washington, is helping the Parkers bust up a still when they discover two buried bodies. The body count eventually rises. Washington and the Parkers, with an assist from the elderly Bell, make it their mission to end the killing spree. The story drags a bit until the final third of the novel, when the action moves to Mexico with gun battles galore. Still, compared to the first two novels, our heroes barely break a sweat in this one.

The Red River mysteries always create a strong sense of time (1966) and place (Lamar County, Texas). Dialog rings true, as do Wortham's scenes of racial tension in an area where whites, blacks, Mexicans, and Native Americans coexisted without mixing. Times are changing in Lamar County -- burlap sacks of "marywana" are showing up -- and Ned is no more pleased about that than he is about the world's dwindling supply of old fashioned manners. While all of that gives the book a realistic atmosphere, Wortham's reliance on homey bromides and fishing stories to fill the middle pages is starting to feel overdone.

In the first Red River mystery, Wortham blended the traditional elements of a crime novel with the chilling elements of a horror story to create a small masterpiece. He followed that formula with less success in the second novel, but still produced a story that made tension palpable. In The Right Side of Wrong, Wortham opted for a more traditional thriller/mystery plot. I enjoyed the result, but this novel doesn't generate the suspense that Wortham created in the first two. Of the three Red Rivers mysteries that have appeared to date, The Right Side of Wrong is the least successful.

RECOMMENDED