Read My Thoughts - THE KNIFE OF NEVER LETTING GO

I picked up this book because an agent who read the first draft of my manuscript said that there was a definite camaraderie between my work and Patrick Ness's Chaos Walking trilogy, the first book of which is The Knife of Never Letting Go.

So first things first, nicest compliment ever. If there's any resonance between our writing styles, nothing makes me happier.

As far as my usual plundering goes, however, I think I have to pass on stealing anything from this book. In part because there's already so much crossover. Not least of which is the similarity between Todd's home, Prentisstown, and Avie's, Perontess. But also the dogged secrets that follow the protags around like an undetonated bomb waiting to go off.

So instead, I'll just leave this book with my highest praise. The language, the Noise, the very play with typography itself was so unique and compelling, it just felt like something new and different.

Here's to hoping I follow in Ness's footsteps!

Salivating - PROMISED LAND

My dad has always been a fan of my writing, but, he's drawn to a very different kind of narrative. Punchy sentences. Linear plot. Nothing mystical. Straightforward. Since he knows I'm writing a book, he wanted me to read one of his favorite authors--someone who "really knows how to tell a great story." He gave me Robert B. Parker, Promised Land (1976).

First off, I now realize that my dad's favorite kind of speech is basically a mix of W.C. Fields and Parker's Private Dick, Spenser (does he even have a first name? I've already forgotten it, if it's included in the novel at all). A kinda wise-guy, speak out the side of your mouth tone. Some beating people up (who obviously deserve it), some bending of the rules (whose violation only reinforces how misguided those rules are in the first place), some acts of restraint and a few bite-sized words of wisdom. All in all, not a bad read.

But the funny thing is, while I was expecting it to be a tough guy book through and through, it turns out to be so completely laden with gourmet food imagery ("My platter of hot hors d'oeuvres included a clam casino, an oyster Rockefeller, a fried shrimp, a soused shrimp and a stuffed mushroom cap"), you almost can't go two pages without getting a reference. In between thug encounters ("You wise bastard. I'm going to straighten you out right now"), you are practically bombarded with food. Entire paragraphs of it.

"I made a Greek salad with feta cheese and ripe olives and Susan set the table while I took the lamb cutlets out of the pan and cooked down the wine. I shut off the heat, put in a lump of unsalted butter, swirled it through the wine essence and poured it over the cutlets. With the meal we had a warm Syrian bread and most of a half gallon of California Burgundy."

And there are two things of which I'm almost 100% positive: my father would not remember or overtly notice those food references (believing the book to be basically ass-kicking and good sleuthing) AND that those passages dramatically increase the pleasurability of the book. They make your mouth water. They make you feel like you've participated in a good meal.

In the end, with writing it's not just what you do front and center, but what you smuggle in. Sometimes a well-described meal is exactly what is needed.