I’m with David Lloyd, head of Walker Books, on this. More Bloody Horowitz is a vile book, and it should never have been published. Less bloody Horowitz would be an excellent solution, but I gather David chickened out and published when Mr Horowitz provided him with incentive to do so. Weakling.
It’s horrible! Mr Horowitz’s name sounds rather like the contents of his collection of short stories. Well, they are not short enough for me. The trouble is, they were rather well written, which caused me to read them. But I felt sick throughout. I want you to know that. Perhaps not at the beginning when he killed off Darren Shan. I didn’t feel too bad then.
But as he moved on to kill and maim innocent children, television competition contestants, elderly relatives, and hooligans (well, perhaps that was OK), I wondered what had possessed the man. Selling your child on eBay is not acceptable parental behaviour. Finding you’ve gone on a French exchange and are sleeping next to a vampire will do nothing for learning foreign languages. Snakes. Ew.
I have never trusted our satnav, and now I know why. When we get close to home, driving through the less reputable parts of town, it always demands we turn right where we need to go left. As for New York, I’m never going there. Ever. And from now on, the iPod stays out of my ears.
Minutes after reading the last page I happened upon an ad for a massage chair. No doubt placed by Mr Horowitz for his comfort. In fact, if he availed himself of the chair, we really could ask Charlie Higson to take over writing the Alex Rider books. They might improve.
The – real – literary people mentioned in this book made for a little light entertainment, but that was all. Quite cunning to get David Lloyd to explain his reasons for publishing. At least it kept him alive. (I know, because I saw him after the book had been published.)
On the other hand, when the Resident IT Consultant saw the book, he begged to read it. I pointed out that whereas he could, it was the same book he read last year, only in a smaller format. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘It was such a nice book I wanted to read some more.’ (The title is misleading, seeing as it says ‘more’. And it’s just the same…) This mild mannered person I’ve known for so long is clearly not who I thought he was, if he calls this ‘nice.’
When I showed it to Daughter, to get her opinion on whether the cover (which I actually liked) would put her off buying or reading the book, she said it definitely would. The girl has got taste.
In the author blurb it mentions that Mr and Mrs Horowitz have been abandoned by both sons. Hardly surprising. The (I assume) dog has gone for a long walk, which I find somewhat sinister.