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April 8, 2022

George Ernsberger
Posted 4/8/22

What Comes After by JoAnne Tompkins (Riverhead).

One of last year’s best first novels, set aside by the column then (I remember why: it’s hard to summarize, hard to be clear and …

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April 8, 2022

Posted

What Comes After by JoAnne Tompkins (Riverhead).

One of last year’s best first novels, set aside by the column then (I remember why: it’s hard to summarize, hard to be clear and credible about its quality/qualities in a short notice) but now available in a big, comfortably readable trade paperback. Beautifully written, pretty much by definition literary; not really a suspense novel, though two evident murders and a profound mystery are vital elements; and in no sense a YA book, though teenagers are central to that mystery, and then a new—and yes, mysterious, at first—young person emerges from the same deep forest. The setting is a small town between the edge of an ocean and that forest (this is Washington state) and…and I still haven’t figured out how to do it justice in limited space. It is beautiful, and that’s not only the writing, though I wasn’t overstating about that, and sad, and not only surprising, inspiring.

The Recovery Agent by Janet Evanovich (Atria).

The column has been covering Evanovich for most of its existence (remember the Stephanie Plum series of novels?) but there have been stretches when either her energy or the column’s has flagged, a bit. So it’s a particular pleasure to report that this first of a new series leaves no doubt that she is still capable of clever, high-energy thrillers. It’s another centering on a woman investigator, this one specializing in finding (and recovering) missing, generally stolen, valuables—heirlooms and such. And yeah, she’s a smartmouth (like her author, one supposes); the book is written in third person, but close in Gabriela’s (our recovery agent’s) point of view. This promises to be a great fun ride, beginning at speed before the end of page 1 of this opening novel.

The Missing Piece by John Lescroart (Atria).

A bad guy who went to prison for (as it happened, that one time) something he didn’t do, gets out and gets dead in short order, and we’re off. Ah, but this is a Dismas Hardy novel, by the great Lescroart (really, of all the people writing crime fiction and thrillers that the column praises, and I mean it every time, not one deserves that word more than this one). So, though it does move quickly and nonstop, we get to know a bit better Hardy’s friends and helpers. It’s also an Abe Glitsky, private eye novel (they all are, but this one is especially), and a Wes Farrell, DA, novel, and more. …Another thing Lescroart commands is a near-magically strong (and light) hand at establishing all you need to know without ever resorting to laundry lists—you don’t even realize you’re being brought up to date. But underlying all that cleverness is depth and wisdom so lightly called on that you scarcely notice it—you just never doubt that you’re listening to somebody worth all your attention. Even if you’d have been satisfied with just a good time.

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