Rocket: You tricked me! This was not a romance novel at all. I thought Bergstom was so nice when I started this book. Why do you make me read these things aloud? The descriptions were so beautiful; totally engaging to the senses and stuff and then…
Skylark: You also thought the Police’s “Every Move You Make” was romantic. You need to learn that there is nothing loving about someone having a “Die Rebecca Schaffer” obsession.
Rocket: Oh that poor woman!
Skylark: Forget about that. In the defense of romance, I thought the relationship between Dora and Jerry was very romantic, in a pulpy film noir sort of way — not entirely unpredictable yet, satisfying. For the most part, I kept wondering, “what’s going to happen next.” I needed to know. Don’t even get me started on the psychology and secret intrigues. This was a great adventure with lots of gray and fuzzy areas. I love reading about humans.
Rocket: Romantic? That sex sceme at the end was creepiest thing ever. Oh my GAWD! I am still having nightmares.
Skylark: Oh come on, that whole sequence made me want to own a beagle. Kilpatrick, really has a good instict for tying loose ends and keeping continuity. He makes a complex spaghetti of a situation seem as simple as a piece of cake, and that is a testament to his craftsmanship.
Rocket: Want a Twinkie? *Offers one to Sylark*
Skylark: I like Twinkies and I like this book.
Rocket: Hustlers from Krakow will like any twinkie for $20, just like the ones in Los Angeles. I’m kidding, Polish hos are cheaper. Hey I actually learned something from reading this novel!
Skylark: *Irritated* Now that’s low. Just because I’m a former sex worker…
Rocket: You know It’s true, you ho!
Skylark: HO? A ho! I am not a…
Rocket: You just like books with dead people and things that disturb the mind.
Skylark: Let’s not focus on the corpses or the visceral, let’s focus on David Kilpatrick’s rich prose and careful attention to detail.
Rocket: Like the rich and detailed description of some sick bastard sexually mutilating a Barbie doll or some woman getting her skin scraped while falling off her bike.
Skylark: Not specifically… You also can tell that he did his homework. It almost seems like he worked for the police at some point in his life.
Rocket: Rich and detailed descriptions of grossness are not cool, I don’t care how well-written they are.
Skylark: He’s aiming for gritty realism. Do you really think that sexual predators are pleasant people to be around when they are having fits of madness?
Rocket: No… But how is sweeping for hidden surveillance devices realistic for some regular cop? It seems too cloak and dagger to be real.
Skylark: You’re too young to remember the spy fest or the KGB before the wall came down… Oh and don’t get me started on the Patriot Act.
Rocket: Creepy!
Skylark: How can you not like a book with little jokes like a perfume named “Some Flowers” in French or a line like, “…like a macho asshole complex”?
Rocket: How do you know French? You can’t even read.
Skylark: I fucked a hot French guy…
Rocket: I don’t want to know.
Skylark: It was before we were engaged.
Rocket: I said I don’t want to know.
Skylark: But…
Rocket: Skylark, what is wrong with you? I admit that there were some really cute touches, like the gay jokes and the stuff about shopping. Still, why do you insist of inflicting this kind of psychological trauma on me? I don’t ever want to read about men confessing things about little girls getting anally raped with lube or doggies getting burnt.
Skylark: Come on, you have to admit that Jerry the Pervert-Hunter is brilliant, and so is his banter with Dora. Kilpatrick’s cool dark humor really is what made this book a page turner for me. I wonder if he digs Vacchs? Brains and pulp is always a very good combo.
Rocket: The book still grossed me out. Kind of like CSI, only ickier.
Skylark: Are pederasts and sexual predators not gross?
Rocket: Okay, granted but, it was still icky to read.
Skylark: Perhaps, but it was a damn good read.
Rocket: Not if you were in the mood for a romance novel about Hollywood stars, *glaring at Skylark* you weasely… um… trickster!
Skylark: Sour grapes, baby. Today’s review was for David Kilpatrick‘s L.A. Stalker. We hope this column has been helpful. Thank you for reading.
