Sunday, November 16, 2008

 

Recommended Reading

Here’s a freak twist of fate for you. I can see Alan Jacobson’s house from my front yard. He lives on the street across from us, and, through bad fortune, is also much closer to the new construction than I am. The 5000 sq. ft. monster-mansion is basically done… but the shack on the next property down the hill has also sold, and someone else is knocking it down as well as cutting out a lot of brush and trees. Welcome to the war zone! Chainsaws! Bulldozers! Hammers in the sky!

In the meantime, Alan is writing kick-ass, bestselling, twists-and-turns murder suspense novels -- no doubt in response to the nonstop antagonism directly over his back fence. I mean, you wouldn’t want to run into Alan in a dark alley.

The funny part is that we lived here for years without meeting. I only learned about him because one of my neighbors, who knows I’m a novelist, reported that there was another writer in the area after his teenage sons were caught whacking apples with a bat into the side of Alan’s house. My neighbor and Alan got talking. My neighbor relayed Alan’s occupation to me. But I never quite got around to knocking on his door. What do you say? “Hello. You write, I write, we… write?”

I read his books, though. False Accusations was particularly good, like John Grisham meets Fatal Attraction. Fun. Scary!

Then we met by coincidence in the local B&N. I’d come in to sign stock and recognized the manager with some guy. I stopped to say hello, and she introduced us — two miles from our homes, which are probably two hundred yards apart. Life is funny.

Long story short, if you’re up for some nail-biting suspense that luminaries such as James Patterson and Nelson DeMille call “compelling“ and “an impressively researched novel about serial murder packed into a tightly twisting plot,“ Alan is your guy.

The 7th Victim
is gruesome, gripping, and lightning-paced. How’s that for a nice jacket blurb!?! ;)

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Comments:
Hey, Jeff! I've been out of touch for a bit. That's wild you would have another novelist literally across the street from you. I believe I'm obligated to use the "itz a small wurld" cliche here. (Alternate spellings to liven it up a bit.)

It sounds like you've got a few real estate speculators with bigger balls than brains loose in your neighborhood. Home prices aren't exactly soaring right now.
 
Hey, Bob! Yeah, that's a bizarre coincidence, isn't it?

As for the endless construction on our tiny little street, well, I suppose it's just the right time. The lots are all nicely-sized, and many of the original homes were minuscule shacks, cheap to buy, quick to knock down. They have the framework for the new foundation in place, and it looks like it's gonna be at least 3500 square feet. Yowza!
 
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