John Ballinger (2) (1941–2010)

I'm a total sucker for books about literary forgeries, and novels featuring forgeries I just can't seem to pass up, no matter how awful they probably will be. And this one is pretty darn awful. I howled with laughter when I read this sentence on the second page: "He didn't shout, but there was something about his low, modulated voice that had the subtle impact of the understated taste of a good single malt scotch." When the police determine the murder weapon (because there's got to be a murder in a such a book), it proves to be such an eye-rollingly implausible weapon that I howled again (no spoilers, go read it).

Odd plot lines, random characters popping in and out the story at random times, writing like the example quoted above ... this is just a great big hot mess of a book. And yet, I read it. It made me laugh. And it's about literary forgery, so, well, it couldn't be avoided.… (mais)