By this week, I mean last Sunday. Obviously.
G. Sampath, who has something of an obsession for vampire fiction, has declared Justin Cronin, author of The Twelve, the saviour of that genre. Stephenie Meyer, eat your heart out.
Farah Rizvi loved The John Lennon Letters (compiled by Hunter Davies) enough to write an open letter to Jarvis Cocker, who wasn’t happy with the volume. I think I’d buy that book just for Lennon’s doodles.
Joanna Lobo was most impressed by Sally Gardner’s Maggot Moon and was happy to discover she and the jury of the Costa Children’s Book Award think alike. Maggot Moon was described as “a seamlessly crafted alternate reality” by one of the judges. You can read an extract here.
Everything was going swimmingly with Banquet On the Dead until Sharath Komarraju had to solve the mystery he’d laid out before Hamid Pasha and Inspector Nagarajan. The revelations don’t work, but Hamid Pasha is a charming detective. Derivative? Absolutely. But it’s also fun. For those who like reading mysteries that are smartly-written and not particularly ambitious or demanding, Westland seems to be developing a nice range of such titles. Ovidia Yu’s Miss Moorthy Investigates was good fun too, even if it did falter a little towards the end. She was Miss-Marple-ish; Komarraju’s Hamid Pasha is Hercule Poirot-ish. Someone at Westland likes Agatha Christie. Not a bad thing at all.