Home > photos and photography, the printed page > and i blasted it across his skull, saying, ‘don’t call me jack-o.’

and i blasted it across his skull, saying, ‘don’t call me jack-o.’

something fishy
(Again, nothing to do with the post itself)

I finished reading Ken Bruen’s “Cross” today in a quick hour-and-a-bit burst of reading. I read a bit of it last night, a bit of it this morning, but I went through the bulk of the 28 chapters in one sitting. As cliche as this may sound, I really couldn’t stop turning the pages.

I love the way Bruen writes: his punchy, realistic dialogue, his gritty characters, the way he describes people and places. I just can’t get enough of it. And, really, you know the writer’s on to something when he can make the reader root for and feel concerned for a very dislikeable anti-hero. Of course, it might just be me, but I really do like the character of Jack Taylor.

It’s not every day that you have the hero of a novel beat someone to a pulp and kill a character that wasn’t, perhaps, intrinsically “evil.” Just, perhaps, slightly annoying. I have to say I felt this great rush of satisfaction when reading those bits.

I’m wierd. And, perhaps, slightly sadistic.

God I love Bruen. And suck at writing about books.

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