I’ve just this past few minutes finished Six Years, a thriller by the mega-selling Harlan Coben. I think the novel is so-so, not bad but not great either. The pages turn so effortlessly that they almost seem to turn by themselves! On the other hand, the characters are boring, the dialogue cheesy, and in the plot all necessary incidents just fall into place whenever required. It doesn’t add up to much, has no resonance or depth whatsoever, and will linger in my mind just long enough for me to finish this post. It’s not a novel that anyone, probably including Harlan Coben, would ever want to revisit.
But there is one neat little piece of writing about three-quarters of the way through:
The woman at the desk had a helmety beehive hairdo last seen on a senator’s wife circa 1964. She hit me with a smile so wooden I could have knocked on it for luck.
Two sentences worthy of Chandler himself!