Yes, once again the world of publishing is all a-tremble at the news that yet another, highly prestigious Duff Corker Award is about to be made. Regular readers will know of my hopeless addiction to 'pulp fiction' which I buy by weight rather than individual volumes. Some of you might suggest, sneakily, that I am somewhat indiscriminate in my awards but you have no idea how many so-called 'thrillers' fail to carry me even a third of the way into their silly plots and end up returned to the charity shops from whence they came. Incidentally, being a semi-Jock tightwad, most of my books come from charity shops which is part of the reason why I am somewhat behind hand in my praise of certain writers whose books have been in proper bookshops for years!
This explains why Mr. Gregg Hurwitz has only just come to my attention despite him having written several thrillers and winning all sorts of prizes. Even so, nothing he has won hitherto stands comparison to the honour of a Duff Corker Award for his book The Survivor. Actually, he won it by the end of chapter three because at that point I put the book down with a sigh and realised that I had been holding my breath for several minutes. I kid you not, dear reader, I could literally feel my heart beating slighter faster than normal - that's how a really good thriller should thrill. Having recovered, I thought that probably it would all be downhill from there on but not a bit of it. Mr. Hurwitz produced more twists and turns than a South Somerset main road, than which, etc, etc. Nor was it all just thrills and spills. His main character was believably accurate and unusually he had the knack of inventing all too accurately the sulky dimness of young teenagers which so often hides their virtues. It was, far and away, the best thriller I have read in ages - and I do mean thriller!
The Survivor by Gregg Hurwitz - it's a Corker!