Not sure where I picked up this recommendation, but it seems to be the “book of the season”, on every bookstore’s lips as a suggestion. And as such, I’m wildly disappointed. I’ve been struggling to get into it for about a week, and finally devoted most of today to plowing through the 400 bland pages of the seedy real life of Las Vegas, complete with strippers, runaways, pervs.
The main story focuses on the disappearance of 12 year old Newell Ewing, which we’re fed with tiny breadcrumbs through the book. We witness the destruction of Newell’s parents’ marriage as time passes, and dive into the past where Kenny (aged 25) and Newell (12) pal around the comic book shop to foist Kenny’s drawings on a visiting comic celeb.
The book is a mishmash of maudlin, overblown sentiments, taking itself way too seriously. Apparently took Bock 13 years to write this crap, which leaves me feeling hollow and discourages any literary effort of my own. Look for it to be adapted into a mediocre movie by Warner Brothers in the next few years.