A perceptive writer, reporter does not necessarily make a great fictional novelist.

Journalists are addicted to facts and horrific news as the book is evidence of that. Great. But do all readers have to be bashed with the worst part of life to get a kick out of a novel?

Where is the purpose? These kinds of books, like Stephen Kings, take agony and make a diabolical glimpse into the dark sides of folks psyches seem like
a contest to see who can paint the ugliest picture.

I took the book back and didn't care about it at all. The writing is crisp, and clean and inventive and cool, yes, but who cares about ugly facts in fictional journalism? Anyway?

I seem to think that males thrive on death and darkness and women pretend to find purpose even if none is there because it's affirming and kind of
beautiful. I must be crazy,but that seems okay to me.