An Early Start

We had to get up a little earlier than usual this morning- so as to be ready to take my mother for a hospital appointment- and my brain came up with what it considered a brilliant plan to avoid oversleeping which was not to sleep at all.

Stupid brain!

I disagreed with it and argued back and finally dropped off in the early hours- and dreamed- as I often do- about a wonderful toyshop with toys I desperately wanted but which had disappeared from the shelf by the time I came to buy them. One of the shop keepers was John Cleese and I did a silly walk that impressed him.

While I wasn't sleeping the phone which I thought I'd lost scrambling under a fence at Dode starting beeping plaintively, telling me it was out of juice. It turns out it has spent the past three weeks on the bedroom floor tucked just out of sight under the valence of the bed. Or, at least, that's what the fairies would like me believe.

The weather is foul. The wind is howling and we've had a lot of rain overnight. I think what we're seeing here is the remnants of the storm that has been burying the Eastern United States in snow.

Dead Simple: Peter James

There are fashions in fictional detectives. Back at the beginning of the last century the eccentric but brilliant amateur was in vogue. By mid century he'd been supplanted by the wise and paternalistic professional- think Maigret or Wexford. Now the detective of choice is a workaholic professional with a maverick streak- like Wallander.

Peter James' detective is very much in the current groove. He's middle-aged, works all hours and- maverick streak coming up- employs psychics and dowsers. I like that particular eccentricity- but it better not be overworked or it'll make his job too easy. Otherwise, I find him rather dull and samey- and I'm not sure he's a character I'll want to be following through a series that already runs to ten volumes. I reckon it's time someone invented a new type of detective.

Dead Simple is a satisfactory construct- reasonably plausible- especially when it comes to the wear and tear and some of the tricks of police work- baffling up to the halfway point, with one or two nice twists and a strong line in suspense. It's set in Sussex and I enjoyed being able to say, "Been there!" as the locations- Ashdown Forest, Hove, Shoreham- scrolled by. My least favourite thing about it is the persistent tang of blokeishness- with a tendency for all the younger female characters to be characterised in terms of their hair colour and bra size. If you're a bit of a petrolhead you'll be pleased to find James knows his motors and writes a bloody good car chase.