As a teen, I had a Thing for Dirk Pitt. It complemented my Thing for James Bond (book version), and Biggles. I read all the Cussler I could get my hands on.
Last night, overheated and unable to sleep, I watched half of Sahara – which I thoroughly enjoy as a ridiculous and entertaining movie.
On the back of that, I decided to read Black Wind, cowritten by Dirk Cussler (!). What better way to spend another scorcher of a summer day?
Answer: reading something that is actually readable. I don’t think it’s just that I’ve become more aware of reading things like “the perky receptionist”… it’s just that the details are presented in about the most boring way, and the predictability – which in some ways I used to love, because the repartee between Dirk and Al was humorous to my teenaged eyes – is now just… predictable.
I don’t think I could ever go back and read old Cusslers, for fear that they will turn out to be as badly written. Same as I could never read the McCaffreys I loved, again.
Black Wind is going into the off-to-second-hand-bookshop pile, with just three chapters read.