How to write so well that people don't want to leave your world - a begrudging book review.
Eric Weule’s book makes me so mad.
There are authors that have the ability to write dialogue so well, it is as real as if you were standing in the same room. The ability to do this is remarkably irritating – so naturally done you cannot imagine that it took any effort, and only realize that you have read 100 pages of it after blinking and wondering where the time went. Mr Weule’s book reads exactly like this – annoyingly flawlessly, stretched out onto the page so invitingly, that you are drawn along in his story applauding all of the characters, feeling as comfortable as if this were about you and your friends. It’s wonderful. It’s like “the joy of reading” condensed into a formula you don’t even know you are addicted to, as you get your fix. Dialogue, character relationships, competent detective work. With solid humour and respect as the basis of all the relationships the main character encounters. Damn it. Damn it again.
This book has all of the characteristics of a Lee Child Reacher novel (to whom the author throws an open reference to – which had me say out loud “Eric – you’re being cheeky! Who is next? Connelly?”) - Connelly was next, and I laughed at that too, because he had me. The writing is so friendly, you feel a part of the book. It is as if all the best elements of a detective story have been put together at once. Child’s Gentlemanly giant, a powerhouse with principles, Is in evidence. But there’s a strong female respect and love interest thrown in – the female characters aren’t just independent and well represented – they actively embark on their own journeys of self-discovery and fulfilment. It is as if Mr Weule has taken the best elements of the genre and modernized them but done so immersed in finely tuned relationship studies. It’s just wonderful. You want to stay in that world forever.
"Caffeine and nicotine" is as satisfying a book as I have read in the last half a year. It shows an author on the top of his game, and one of the finest dialogue builders I have read. Respect. How the hell did he do that? Dammit. I’m forgetting to be mad at him again. I just know there was something else perfect in the…
The damn dog, Eric. One of the highlights of my damn year.
How dare you get a dog so spot on?
Dammit. We need more of the dog, Eric. Please. More dog.
(I think I have fulfilled my grumpy nature. This book is remarkable. Go buy it.)