Bloodline — Author James Rollins, $27.99 HC, $12.99 E
When I buy James Rollins books, I usually do it when he visits our local bookstore, the Poisoned Pen. I buy 3-4 copies, get them signed and hand them out to friends. I think of these gifts as part of my evangelical mission on behalf of the world of thrillers. Mr. Rollins makes a great ambassador for the genre. His stories are perfect examples of thrillers, giving the reader a heavy dose of nearly believable science delivered with a boyish sense of adventure and just the right hint of humor. Fun to read, easy to understand, perfectly written, and entertaining to boot—who delivers more?
The pitfall for established authors of series books is the required repetition. The author has an established model that works. Keeping that model going earns him a living. Think of a bricklayer who wants to change the pattern. Creativity in bricklaying is inherently limited. So too for the series author. Readers get mad if certain characters change or die. At the same time, critics have a soft target when the formula continues unabated. The author is caught in a trap. Many authors are comfortable in that trap as long as the books keep selling.
Mr. Rollins avoids the trap better than anyone writing today. With each new Sigma Force novel he spins a new yarn with interesting history and science behind it. In Bloodline, the forces of evil have conjured up the most horrifying genetic trait: living forever. I want to live forever. I just don’t want those who disagree with me to live forever. In this story, the people who have the key to eternal life are, naturally, the people who disagree with me. By tying the plot to radical extrapolations of science, Mr. Rollins succeeds in keeping the story fresh and exciting.
My wife quit reading Sally Kellerman novels because Ms. Kellerman committed the sin of killing off a central character. Not quite as unforgivable as the death plunge of Holmes and Moriarty but close. Where characters are concerned, Mr. Rollins has toyed with reader’s emotions before. Gray’s mom died. A shocker, but not a central character. I, for one, figured the oft-recurring Sigma sidekick Monk would find a way off the bottom of the lagoon where he ‘died’ in one novel. Sure enough, in the next adventure, Monk was rescued. Who was it? Do I recall a secret race of telepathic new-age amphibious tree sloths? I forget. With Mr. Rollins’ writing, you can bet it bordered on surreal fantasy—but you roll with it because you already bought into a bunch of Hero-Hoodlum-PhDs living under the Smithsonian.
Where was I? Oh, yes, in Bloodline, all the right characters are back. Including a beauty we’ve not seen for a decade (see Deep Fathom). It’s nice to see those old familiar faces: Painter, Kat, Gray, his redeemed-assassin- psycho-andstillunconsummated-girlfriend Seichan, and of course, everyone’s favorite lug, Kowalski. All cute and cuddly like the Madagascar penguins. My wife read the book with glee, safe in the knowledge that, unlike Ms. Kellerman’s characters, Sigma Force personnel are immortal.
Sick pup that I am, I openly advocate the death of one character or another just for the change-up. If Gray doesn’t make a move on Seichan in the next book, I’ll vote him into a pine box. ’Bout as boring a sex life as Katniss and her boys.
I’m sure you know Mr. Rollins is a veterinarian turned author, so it comes as no surprise that he’s finally included an animal as one of the important characters. The new faces, Tucker and his dog Kane, are an interesting pair. A dog and handler who accomplish amazing feats. Is he dangling these new characters before our eyes intending a new series? Probably. I say dangling because two years ago I asked him if he planned to make a series out of the veterinarian Lorna Polk, from Altar of Eden. He said the publisher had given the green light. And yet here I am, waiting patiently, and no Altar of Eden Part Deux in sight.
I believed a novelist. Should have my head examined.
All this makes for an interesting book which I not only recommend but do so with such gusto that I actually hurl autographed copies at my friends. (I don’t have the kind of friends who let me come inside, so I deliver them from the restraining order’s prescribed distance.) But Mr. Rollins is more than just a poster boy for adventure/thriller/mystery/science/kitchen/sink novels. He’s the poster boy for the 20th Century publishing industry.
Traditional publishers, or 20th Century publishers, sometimes called the Big 6, contend that their products have been vetted and edited and committeed and blessed, and so on. There are many examples of books that have managed to avoid any vetting and editing and still get on the shelves—but that’s a blog for another day. There are far more examples in the un-fettered stream of authors publishing into what one friend called the Tsunami of Swill on Amazon. The quantity of authors publishing something they will later regret is not as bad as one might imagine but they are significant in number and open the independent author’s community to disproportionate ridicule. This controversy only serves to obscure great new authors like RE McDermott and Giacomo Giammatteo. Sad times for good writers.
On the flip side, 20th Century publishers have invested much in Mr. Rollins. And he has more than held up his part of the bargain. Where some authors take advantage of their name brand by handing outlines to named-ghostwriters and letting them have at it regardless of the diluted effects, Mr. Rollins appears to have performed all his own stunts. He is churning out great novels with fully formed characters, plausible plots, and fascinating story lines at such a rate that one might request a steroid test.
His publisher gives him editing and marketing resources and he makes the best use of them. We, the readers, benefit. He cares about his craft, his finished product, and ultimately, his readers. By doing his work diligently, Mr. Rollins deserves a debt of gratitude from the reading community in these turbulent times for publishers.
Long may he write.
Peace, Seeley James
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