The Sand Men

The Sand Men

The Sand Men – Christopher Fowler

Motoring around a bookstore, the other afternoon, I bemoaned my loss of archaic discovery for new books. However, I did stumble onto a new that looked to be fun.

The method of discovery, after writing about roots in Austin, rummaging the various locations, I was amiably and idly wandering, meandering the stacks at the big box bookstore — with Pumpkin Spice Latte prevalent, I was thinking about rereading Dune, and a similar title with evocative cover art caught my attention — The Sand Men by Christopher Fowler.

“One Spice to rule them all!” (Pumpkin Spice Latte?)

Cursory digging makes that author out as an Aries. A number of his sophomore texts really grabbed me, with an ancillary character being London itself. Part of the process of discovery, poking through bookstores in old London-town.

The opening premise alone hooked me, about ex-pats working in the Arabian Peninsula, two-year shifts that make bank.

If I were much younger, and thusly unencumbered, I think a two-year stint in Arabia, or Japan, or wherever, I figure that would be wondrous experience. Plus make bank. Now-a-days, with the net and all? Even easier.

I remember what grabbed me the first time I read one of his books, it was the uncanny, unnatural, horrific death scene as an opener. Nothing like a mangled, grizzly death to get me roped into the story and its plot lines.

There’s also an overweening British Accent present in these books. Love that.

    The Sand Men – Christopher Fowler

Part way through, there’s one of those killer observations of human nature, and as a writer, I have to admire the seamless insertion of blantant truth, possibly uncomfortable observations about human nature, just effortlessly woven into the narrative.

Nothing to do with anything.

The Sand Men – Christopher Fowler

Purposefully, I didn’t buy the digital copy because it was, I discovered in a bookstore, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. If one doesn’t purchase books, then bookstores will cease to exist. This is one of the stories, about a hundred pages in, it gripped me, and I didn’t want to put it down. The kind of book I stay up late, reading, and looking haggard the next morning.

The Sand Men – Christopher Fowler

The Sand Men

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