Yesterday I decided to download some new books for listening, since I’ve got a bunch of audible.com credits building up. Unfortunately, one of my choices was, yes, The Lost Symbol. As you may know, spotting bad DC geography and similar phenomena in TV and film is one of my favorite pastimes. So, I thought the book might be amusing. But man. Let me tell you this, dear reader: a bad book, badly narrated, really doesn’t make for good entertainment. (Two wrongs don’t make a right, even when you’ve got an iPod.)
Listening to this book makes me think, “Boy, Dan Brown…you make David Baldacci look like Tolstoy!” Don’t get me wrong; I love me some mystery/thrillers. I admit, however, that I usually stick to something just a notch or two more upmarket: Henning Mankell, PD James, Elizabeth George, Peter Robinson…that sort of thing. But this book? It makes me consider ever more seriously the idea of my own detective novel. Because if writing that bad can cause nothing less than a worldwide sensation, then there’s got to be a publisher’s advance in my future, right?
- Lyric of the day: “The wind blows hard against this mountain side, across the sea into my soul”
- Flashback of the day: Unmatched marching band uniforms
- As I write this, what’s playing? STP’s “Creep,” off Core.
- Photo of the day:
U gots me a new raydeeoh
It’s National Cat Day, everyone! Cuts is celebrating by…well, at last report she was sleeping in my bed. I thought I might finally give up the rock and change her name, and I came up with a good Russian word that she seemed to like and answer to, but now I can’t remember what it was. Might it have been “sleepyhead” (“COΗЯ”, pronounced “Sonia”)? Anyhow, I guess that’s another sign my memory is fading fast…sigh. So, she remains unfortunately-named, but still cute and as mental as ever.
