Dirk Robertson:	SHOTS' NY Correspondent
Number:	Number 3 (April 2006)

   I have changed my mind. I will read all the books that come to me for review. You never know. A masterpiece of Da Vinci commercial proportions, may be lurking in the postbox.

Richard Meese's "Detour" is not it. This is almost unreadable. Judge for yourself.

"One whack of a forearm, a blind milky missile exploding from the protective silo of her down comforter, once again failed to silence the indestructible Snoopy alarm." (p1)

There's a stab at some erotic stuff too.

"the sight of her breasts fighting to stay stuffed into the top drawer of the tight blouse she was wearing, beckoning to him like milky, soft, skin titillating pillows every time she bent over…"(P174)

In amongst this savaging of the written word there are various characters who leave me with little will to live. There is a policeman called Wilson, a street called Wilson and a hotel called Wilson. There is a secret agent called Steve Solo and the other main characters are Margaret Brady and her dry cleaning. They spend hundreds of pages in Geneva. I can't understand what they are up to. I am unable to work out who owns the pillows.

Back in wherever, things hot up. Wilson's makes some moves. "he tipped the ketchup bottle over her burger and they both watched the thick goo emerge, dripping lustily over the dry, needy plate." (p188)

What is this book actually about. If it was not for Margaret Brady coming to the rescue on page 276, I would be unable to tell you.

"Somebody thought I was this terrorist woman who looks just like me and tried to kill me, but this government agent guy saved my life and he brought me here to protect me and now I'm just going insane…"

There you have it.

To be fair, there is a glimmer of hope. A piece of prose which appears to have the correct amount of words in it. He can obviously do it when he puts his mind to it.

 
"Does anyone have an aspirin?" "she began to weep silently, her face buried in her hands to muffle the sound. (p274)

I know the feeling, love.

The only way ahead for this author is up because it can't possibly get any worse. The price is not a misprint.

"Detour" by Richard Meese (Hats Off Books) ISBN 1-58736-535-9 Price: $33.00

 
What else is happening Stateside?

 
The great grandchildren of the Von Trapps, upon whom the Sound of Music is based, have got together and are touring in a musical, about to hit the Big Apple. I don't know what it will be like. One of the female Von Trapp grand kiddies said she liked to relax in a bath of mud (don't..) and one of the others said they are getting on really well with the cast who play the Nazis. It warms the cockles of your heart.

A fourteen year old was found wandering the streets, with an Uzi, complete with ammo. Not far where from where I am staying. It is a nice neighbourhood. Hey, an Uzi is not cheap.

I went to my first baseball game. The Yankee Stadium in the Bronx was bathed in sunlight and my five dollar ticket took me to the gods. I had a fabulous view. The game is almost a sideline. Americans come to have a good time and they know how to do that. It was a great atmosphere. The only sour note was when someone peeled their top off and shook their gigantic naked breasts at everyone. He was soon handcuffed by a couple of New York's finest who were so enormous, they looked like it was two officers in one uniform. As they led him away, I heard him cursing in his fine British accent. We know how to have a good time too, don't we?

I have grown my hair and now sport a huge mass of curls. I was returning from the all-night deli with my copy of "Detour" tucked safely under my arm, when I heard someone behind me. I tensed. I was not going to give the book up without a fight. I have become strangely attached to it.

"Got any money? Afro." If there was menace lurking in the question, I couldn't tell. I was too busy glowing with pride as I let the door swing behind me. He had just addressed me by the name of one of my characters from my first book. No-one followed me up the stairs.

I love this city.