The Mystery Starts Here

By and large, “The Blue Hour” by T. Jefferson Parker was a good read, but I’d only give it three stars. The mystery part of the book was excellent – I sure didn’t figure out whodunit! The first 100 pages of the novel were great and really sucked me in. That’s a good thing because I have a 50 page rule. If a book doesn’t catch my interest in 50 pages, I give up and go on to the next one. I generally get eight books from the library at a time, and I have to tell you, I consider myself to be extremely lucky if I can read four!

Back to “The Blue Hour.” After the first 100 pages, things slowed down – considerably. Parker is a very good writer but way too wordy. In my opinion, the subplots of the two Sheriff’s Department Detectives got in the way, did nothing to enhance the story and should have been cut considerably.

Tim Hess, a retired deputy is brought back to help the young thirty-something detective, Merci Rayborn. Let me tell you right off the bat, I hated Rayborn. She was brash, snotty and very masculine. Parker kept going into detail about the armament Rayborn was wearing – over and over and….well, way too much. Hess was 67, had just had the-thirds of his lung removed because of cancer and was going through chemotherapy. He worked every day all day – long hours. Toward the end, he was running around after bad guys! I’m sorry but I didn’t believe it for a minute! Then when Merci (34) has a fling with Hess (67) I almost lost it. Too unbelievable.

The end of the book was ludicrous. I won’t spoil it in case you decide to read “The Blue Hour” but let me say, Merci went completely against type and the whole last couple of chapters were SO dumb, I almost threw this book against the wall. It’s too bad because, as I said, the mystery was a cleaver one.

This is my first T. Jefferson Parker novel and I’m not sure I’ll ever read another one. I’ve heard he’s a good writer and he is but….that ending, oh, my goodness that ending.

I’ve been watching the commercials on television for the new mystery series, “Castle,” with great interest. It looked like an good idea and I HOPED it wouldn’t be one of those oh-so cutsie shows like “Bones.” (I had high hopes for that one too as I like Kathy Reich’s novels. I watched the first show and quit. Yuck.) Abandon all hope all ye who decide to watch “Castle.” It’s cutsier than hell.

The basic premise is that Richard Castle, a wildly successful and extremely rich mystery writer, has decided to go along with an NYC police detective to experience how real police work happens. Well, damn – I guess I’ve been doing it wrong! I always thought a writer should find out the correct way things are done and THEN write about them. Silly me. The show starts with a police detective going into HUGE detail about all the things that could happen to Castle before he make sure the writer signs off to make sure the police department is not liable if anything happens to him. I’ve gone on police ride-alongs – you sign a piece of paper after hopefully reading it. That’s it – no big production.

The instant Castle has inked his signature on the dotted line, THEY GET A CASE! The detective whom Castle is shadowing is young, gorgeous and VERY EFFICIENT! The show went rapidly down hill from there. They trade witty barbs, she keeps saying, “Shut up, Castle,” and quirking her eyebrow at him. He smirks and tries to look cute. Of course he sees and hears things the very efficient detective misses completely. He spies clues, intuits motives and basically solves the case. He goes home to his adorable teen-aged daughter and writes about the case – I suppose to publish another wildly successful novel that will earn him pots of money. 

Well, I tried. I watched “Castle” once – never again. The first time killed too many of my brain cells.