Harlan Coben
When I find an author whose writing I love, I generally devour everything he's ever published as quickly as I can. Call it interest, call it obsession. Either way, I have an innate need to read every word written by any author that brings me even a modicum of joy.
That makes Harlan Coben an intersting case for me. I love thrillers and Harlan Coben can't be beat when it comes to sheer nail-biting, page-turning, seat-of-your-pants [inserte your favorite cliche] excitment. When I read a Harlan Coben book, I simply can't put it down.
My first Coben purchase was sheer dumb luck. If I'd done any research on him at all, I'd probably have skipped his books altogether. His career started with a series of thrillers based around a sports agent. I'm not at all interested in sports. Had I known the history I would have lost out on some of the most twisty-turny thrillers being written today. Luckily, I spotted the bright orange cover of Tell No One and decided instantly that I must purchase it. Perhaps book marketers know what they are doing when they pick certain colors for covers.
I was hooked in a matter of minutes. The thriller was writen from the perspective of an ordinary guy trying to survive extraordinary circumstances. Unlike most crime thrillers, the main character wasn't a cop or forensic specialist. He didn't have access to sophisticated machinery or scientific theories that would help him find the baddies. He was just like me, only more exotic and exciting. I loved it.
As I continued to read the book, I was thrilled with the completely unexepected plot twists that a less daring author might never have thought of or dismissed out of hand as too crazy. As a master reader of thrillers, I'm fairly jaded and it takes a lot to surprise me. Coben managed it time and again.
Of course, this meant I had to go out and get my hands on as many Coben books as humanly possible. I was living in Sweden at the time, which made my Coben acquisition a delicate process that involved mail order and extremely high customs charges. I hate mail order. I especially hate international mail order. When I'm on an author binge, I want books NOW NOW NOW, not next week.
Eventually, I had my binge with four new Coben thrillers and found that I had a bad case of Coben indigestion. Those twists and turns and heart wrenching moments in Tell No One got very old by No Second Chance. Coben has a real knack for the English languge, but his imagination seems to have stalled out when it comes to twists. His books may be original unto themselves, but they are much too similiar when you read them one after the other.
I've found that I still love Coben, but I can't indulge in him like I do other authors. Instead of a binge, I have to delicately savor one of his books every year or so. That gives me enough time to forget his formula and gives me enough distance to be surprised when the layers of plot are peeled back and the truth is finally revealed.