This Must Be the Place is a well-written exercise in nothing-happens fiction.
Some may argue for the virtues of nothing-happens fiction (Ulysses) or point to other great novels by literary greats where nothing actually happens.
Kudos to those people because they are ignoring the flip-side of do-nothing fiction: the multitude of books published that are, at their core and outer edges and everywhere in between, boring. Boring, boring, boring.
House of Echoes is plagued with problems, from a clichéd plot ripped from X-Files episodes, to an entire lack of action/plot development to a complete and total non-suspension of disbelief. Couple all of these problems with some rich whiney city people who move to a not-rural Eastern town? (C’mon New York; move to Utah, Idaho, New Mexico, Colorado, Nevada, etc., the middle of these states, and then you can start complaining about rural life). It’s a recipe for a boring waste of time.
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Half-Resurrection Blues is a pseudo-enjoyable romp through an ultra-contemporary paranormal New York mired in way, way too much profanity.
Don’t get me wrong. I work at a newspaper as a reporter. I swear way too much and, because of this, we even set up a swear jar in the newsroom. Twice.
I have no problem with profanity, especially in everyday usage.
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