Do you ever wonder who writes the inside flap for books? Do you think it might be the same morons that create movie trailers with the entire plot, twists and all, spelled out for you? Do you ever wander the library, cursing softly to yourself (no one likes to get shushed in the library) as you read inner flap after inner flap with a description like this: Stupid Named Protagonist has left behind his/her life in the military/police force/crime. Unfortunately their brother/sister/wife/various other relatives/friend has been kidnapped/killed/gone missing and it is up to Stupid Named Protagonist to go back to their old life to save them." I'm sick of it. Luckily, Yosarrian recommended John Fowles' debut novel, The Collector to me. Thank you so much for rescuing me from a quagmire of mediocrity.
