Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Night in the Lonesome October and Savage by Richard Laymon

I was twenty years old and heartbroken the night it started.

Preamble in first person.

My name is Ed Logan.
Yes, guys can be heartbroken, too. It isn’t an affliction reserved for women only.

Stalling the preamble in first person.

It's nice how Laymon sets the record straight. From now on, I'll refer women to this book, to straighten them out about the myth of the male broken heart. By page 2 we begin to get the patent violent thoughts and rage that is Laymon, followed by swearing and we presume, some horrific violence. At least he gets right to the point.

First thing said:

‘Holly isn’t home just now, but I’ll tell her you called.’

Verdict: Fail

I'll review another Laymon novel opening since I have the space...


London’s East End was rather a dicey place, but that’s where I found myself, a fifteen-year-old youngster with more sand than sense, on the night of 8 November 1888.

So begins a prologue. It gives us the fleeting glimpse of a character, but most importantly, the place and date, making sure we don't imagine this is present day California.

Chapter 1:

It was a lovely night to be indoors, where I sat all warm and lazy by the fire in our lodgings on Marylebone High Street. 

Fade in to setting. One almost expects Sherlock to enter in the next sentence. There is an effort to make this sound like it was written by Dr. Watson to create some period atmosphere, but in the end it sounds like a modern American trying to sound like a Victorian and failing. It shouldn't keep anyone from reading on (there are other things about this book to keep you from reading on), but it can be distracting.

First thing said:


Verdict: Fail

Rudy Globird

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