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Pulp Thrillers are Just Plain Twisted
There are books that you just do not want to end. The characters are endearing — you wish, like Holden Caulfield, that you could meet the author and chat about the world as they see it. I felt that way when I read Jeanine Cummins’ American Dirt. Then there are books that you can’t wait to get to the ending, not because you savor the novel, but because the author has teased you so much that you just want to get it over with. Rather than have endearing protagonists, you find yourself enduring those characters. So give the author John Hart and his debut novel of 2006 The King of Lies credit — he does own hook, but his bait will I never take again. Not from him or his ilk. What do I mean by his ilk?
I read some of these novels at my own risk because these writers are so popular that I think there must be something redeeming in their work?
To explain, I love John Grisham. I respect what he stands for and what he fights against. His protagonists face difficult situations — usually ones that are plaguing society whether it is a political, social or judicial issue. Generally, that protagonist has right on his side and flies with one’s better angels. Mr. Hart, like the pulp fiction authors that I have managed to at least try to read (Michael Connelly, David Baldacci and…
