I'm only a chapter and a half into this book, and already I'm contemplating not finishing it. So far Lenehan and Hackman have hit half of all known literary cliches square on the head, and I have no doubt they'll hit the other half in subsequent chapters. For all of the brilliantly written films Hackman has been in, he (and his cohort) have absolutely no ear for human speech. The prose writing is not much better. Only if you have nothing else to read, or think Danielle Steele has been unjustly passed over for the Pulitzer.