Quote of the Day: The Thursday Murder Club, pp. 37 – 38

  • “She must be fifty,” Ian thinks, same age as him. Different for women, though . . . If that meant having to flirt with a fifty-year-old for a couple of weeks, then so be it . . . As he shakes Karen’s hand, Ian thinks that using a bit of hand cream every now and again wouldn’t kill her. Fifty! He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Ian’s thinking is apropos of THE VILLAIN. THE VILLAIN. THE VILLAIN!

That is all.

Quote of the Day: The Thursday Murder Club

“Big is the same as small. There’s just more of it.”

The Thursday Murder Club, Ch. 5, p. 25

When the Diagnosis is Bad

But in the last week, he’d renewed his friendship with Absolut Vodka. And he’d found that it went very well with Cheetos. Fucking Cheetos. He’d been through the McDonald’s drive-through twice, gorging on Big Macs and fries. He couldn’t believe how good this shit tasted. Took home Domino’s one night. Ate the whole goddamn pizza himself. Woke up at midnight with the worst heartburn of his entire life. Briefly wondered — and at some level hoped — it was a heart attack and things would be over now.

— p. 30, Find You First, by Linwood Barclay

Summer 2021 Read # 2: FIND YOU FIRST

Scorching hot day. Downtown, everyone’s in t-shirts. Yes, it is summer. Kids ran madly around the lobby of the Century 20. Self has been sleeping an average of four hours a night, thinking much of Dear Departed Mum. But today, she is determined to keep ambulatory. Hence, the movie (Raya and the Last Dragon), the books. After the movie, a stop at Go Poke. Movies are back, restaurants are back, even traffic is back.

Oak Flat: The Fight for Sacred Land in the American West was a great book. Her next, Find You First, is, according to Stephen King, “the best book” of Linwood Barclay’s career.

For self, all thrillers must be measured against the beginning of Eddie’s Boy, by Thomas Perry. Page one of Eddie’s Boy, there were already three bodies in the trunk of the main character’s Bentley and he hadn’t even broken into a sweat.

This one begins rather slow, with a loser grifter and his pathetic burner phone. Next is a young documentarian in an old folks’ home; sadly, the chapter does not slay. Then we have the millionaire/billionaire with the boring name of Miles Cookson, receiving a diagnosis of Huntington’s which is dementia mixed with Parkinson’s mixed with something else, and next he’s driving 90 in his speedster Porsche and being pulled over. A Porsche, btw, is a really really boring car. Leather bucket seats? So what else is new. She sees a lot of them around here, but it would be better to have a Tesla. Or some sort of hybrid luxury ride, like a Lexus SUV.

That’s all self has read so far. (Maybe the cop will try to kill the millionaire/billionaire? Let’s hope!)

Stay cool, dear blog readers. Stay cool.

Things Self Liked: A Quiet Place, Part II

John Krasinski, such a sly one: makes a sequel that still puts him on-screen despite his character dying in the first. But it makes complete emotional sense.

This is a very stylish horror movie. Mebbe not Alien level, but still. It’s very stylish.

Another thing that shows Krasinski’s slyness: he introduces us to ugly Cillian Murphy. Think about that for a minute. UGLY CILLIAN MURPHY.

The actress who plays his deaf daughter is absolutely amazing, and there is of course Emily Blunt.

Emily Blunt. Emily Blunt. Emily Blunt.

Even when she’s running, she looks like a ballet dancer.

Also, the filthiest feet (But why does Cillian Murphy’s character wear boots when EVERYONE ELSE IS BAREFOOT)

Also, clever use of an oxygen tank.

Self loudly gasped at least once.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Allegra

“I want you to do some magic to make it tame, but what’s the use of petting a tiger?”

Ballistic Kiss, p. 127

Hello, My Ride

Behind the dumpster is something wrapped in a dirty tarp, with stones holding the edges down. I kick the stones away on one side and toss back the tarp. And get my first look at the Hellion Hog in — how long? Well over a year.

Ballistic Kiss, p. 28

The Hellion Hog doesn’t have a key because no one can ride it but me. I get a grip on the handlebars and kick the bike to life.

— p. 29

BALLISTIC KISS (Sandman Slim # 11)

Stayed up late to finish reading All the Devils are Here. Though the denouement was a little drawn out, it ended satisfyingly, with the entire family (including Jean-Guy Beauvoir, who self wouldn’t mind reading a stand-alone series about) back in Three Pines.

Next: Ballistic Kiss, by Richard Kadrey

I reassemble the Colt, load in a couple of slugs, and open the kitchen window. Put both shots dead center into a dusty pine tree on the hillside below. The jump of the pistol in my hand and the smell of the shots instantly brighten my mood.

The phone vibrates. Someone texted me. I ignore it. Pour more coffee.

Ballistic Kiss, p. 6

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Ice Walker!

The beginning of Ice Walker: A Polar Bear’s Journey Through the Fragile Arctic is so captivating, just as The Butterfly Effect‘s opening chapters were. Hope author James Raffan is able to keep the focus on polar bears, not drift into a depiction of human activity — all self wants is nature, all the time.

What she loved so much about Eddie’s Boy, which she blazed through a few days ago, was how relentless it was. The book was about a hitman, and he stayed hitman to the very end, no apologies. She appreciates Thomas Perry’s singular focus. You would think a reader would find all the killing pretty rote by the end — but no, it stayed fresh. Again, kudos to Thomas Perry.

Chapter One of Ice Walkers (“Circling”) is gripping:

  • She stops and sniffs the frigid air, with almost no vapor trail from her mouth or nose. In a frozen world where liquid freshwater for drinking is absent, she draws on metabolic water created by the burning of seal fat, her main food source. The outside air is desert dry, but the air in her lungs is humid. Somehow she is able to conserve moisture and stay sufficiently hydrated, even when running or exerting herself physically in the hunt, when a human would soon die from winter dehydration. Every one of these adaptations is a marvel that has taken untold generations to evolve. These are not physiological changes that can respond to seasonal or even annual environmental shifts.

Over-the-Top

Since Eddie’s Boy began (actually, also in the two days since she started reading), so many things have happened to the hero/hitman. After he was targeted in York (York! City of cathedrals!), Michael Schaeffer (yes, MC does have a name) headed to Manchester Airport (which was smart, because Gatwick and Heathrow have security cams all over the place) and flew to SYDNEY.

SYDNEY, as in Sydney, Australia.

Before you can say two sneezes, he’s attacked twice, the first time on the airport express to downtown Sydney (Scary/good scene! It goes down in exactly 13 minutes).

So, having determined that Sydney was a VERY BAD IDEA (LOL), he takes another flight, this time to the U.S.

It’s a good thing this was written before pandemic, or Michael would have no recourse except — maybe an island in the middle of the Pacific?

Wait, why didn’t he go to an island in the middle of the Pacific? Surely, it would be hard for hitmen to escape detection there — fewer people, etc etc

As a matter of fact, self has already written this story: in her story, the island isn’t deserted because it’s an island in the Philippines, which is over-populated. Her story’s called “Sand,” and it’s coming out later this year in Pembroke Magazine.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

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