Anthony Horowitz is a mighty good writer.
Been doing a lot of flying lately. Ended up in an airport bookstore out in LA at one point, and with a long flight home in front of me, decided to pick up one of those old-fashioned printed books to occupy my time. But which book?
I actually had it in mind to read Elon Musk’s biography, because a) he’s doing a lot of great stuff, b) he’s doing a lot of crazy stuff, c) he’s gone off the deep end and so where did he come from so I can avoid making those mistakes, but mostly d) Walter Isaacson is a really good writer. But I couldn’t find the book. Odd.
So I started walking around the bookstore tables, giving a few things that caught my eye the first page test. Like, is this book any good and you can tell after one page. My opinion, anyway.
Out of the first couple dozen I picked up, every one failed the test.
And then I came to Close To Death. A murder mystery.
Really, not what I was looking for. Not necessarily my cup of tea, which is an appropriate metaphor, since what this book was/is turned out to be a sort of homage to the old-fashioned English Agatha Christie kind of mystery.
BUT.
Holy smokes, this guy can write. That was evident from the first page.
I’ll just stop there, and recommend any/all of his stuff. I’ve read about five of them now, including Magpie Murders which is apparently a BBC mini-series.
But trust me, the book is better.