The Cuckoo's Calling
by Robert Galbraith
If you read this book with no knowledge of the author, you’ll probably have less of a chance of liking it than if you know Robert Galbraith’s background. No spoilers here, though.
Unless you are really a die-hard fan of extremely tedious, slow, boring, detailed to a fault, easily guessable, overly wordy (much like this sentence), and far from suspenseful murder mysteries, I can’t imagine liking this book. I was so bored, I turned this into a “treadmill book” so I’d only be forced to read it for 20-30 minutes at a time. When Galbraith tried to write like a detective, providing endless details about the way a character flicked ash off his cigarette, I kept asking myself, “Where was the editor?” The book could have—and should have—been a good two hundred pages shorter.
Call me cuckoo (pun intended, thank you) but if I’ve guessed the whodunnit at the beginning of the whodunnit, where’s the suspense in continuing to read? There is no suspense in The Cuckoo’s Calling, besides how long you’ll last before throwing the heavy doorstop across the room. Save your eyes, save your time, and save your sanity. Read an Agatha Christie instead.
Unless you are really a die-hard fan of extremely tedious, slow, boring, detailed to a fault, easily guessable, overly wordy (much like this sentence), and far from suspenseful murder mysteries, I can’t imagine liking this book. I was so bored, I turned this into a “treadmill book” so I’d only be forced to read it for 20-30 minutes at a time. When Galbraith tried to write like a detective, providing endless details about the way a character flicked ash off his cigarette, I kept asking myself, “Where was the editor?” The book could have—and should have—been a good two hundred pages shorter.
Call me cuckoo (pun intended, thank you) but if I’ve guessed the whodunnit at the beginning of the whodunnit, where’s the suspense in continuing to read? There is no suspense in The Cuckoo’s Calling, besides how long you’ll last before throwing the heavy doorstop across the room. Save your eyes, save your time, and save your sanity. Read an Agatha Christie instead.