Gypped: A Regan Reilly Mystery Hardcover – Apr 3 2012
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Just as dancing is "the art of moving in accord with a pattern," says Mary Oliver, so is writing metrical verse. "One sorts out the pattern, one relies on it, and relaxes from effort to pleasure." The rules (concerning rhyme, line length, and pattern) are made if not to be deliberately flouted, then at least to be toyed with. Oliver claims to have written this book for both writers and readers of metrical verse, but it is an odd sort of fit for either. A writer might wish for a little more detail; a reader might find too much. The book works best as a kind of refresher course, for those who have forgotten the difference between metaphysical and Petrarchan conceits, between masculine and feminine rhymes, and would like to brush up a bit. Oliver does a wonderful job of explaining why the most common forms of metrical verse came to prevail (for instance, the five-foot line is "the line which is the closest to the breathing capacity of our lungs"), and of nudging us into reading more metrical poetry (nearly half this volume is devoted to works by John Donne, William Blake, Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Bishop, and others). Blessedly, Oliver reminds us that, though one could get carried away trying new meters and forms, one shouldn't expect to be writing a lot of double ionics anytime soon. "Expect to use one hypersyllabic foot in ten years, perhaps," she says. "Anacrusis, rarely. Catalexis: often. The double ionic: when the next comet flies over." --Jane Steinberg --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
"What good company Mary Oliver is!" (The Los Angeles Times) --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.See all Product Description
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The plot and characters are typical of the author; it's the development and treatment that are lacking. It shows little respect for her readers, most of whom undoubtedly have read the entire series and buy the newest book believing it will be of similar quality to the others. Plus, she piggybacks on her mother's publishing date, which probably guarantees still more readers.
The title of the book, "Gypped," is an accurate description of how this reader felt.
Gypped was incredibly lame. First of all Regan has been 31 for at least a decade. Jack is always loving arm candy and has been conveniently disposed of "in a conference" in at least four novels. I suppose its harder to have disagreements (or sex) if you are never in the same city. Not that I expect these to turn in to Fifty Shades of Regan Reilly, but Jack-and-Regan-the-couple are just BORING.
This book had zero plot twists and the even the predictable coincidences were so transparent, I assume they were put in as filler to make the book appear more than twelve pages. The bad guys are identified so quickly I wouldn't have been suprised to see yellow highlighter over their names. I read the Kindle version and kept waiting for the story to evolve - with the Kindle, you can't really tell how far you are into a book. However, it was painfully simple to recognize the end was near (all the characters converge) and I kept thinking, "no ...there is going to be another character, or an alien invasion or SOMETHING."
Alas, no such luck. The good guys all wipe a tiny bead of persperation off their brows and thank Regan for saving the world and Regan and Jack ride off into the sunset to not have sex. Or argue, or drive into the San Andreas Fault where they might have to have an interesting conversation while trying to figure out how they are going to get out.
The Kindle version is $13 plus change...buy chocolate instead.
This was the first Carol Higgins Clark book I've read and I probably won't read another. I'm used to reading actual mysteries with actual plot twists, ex. James Patterson, Harlan Coben, even the other 2 Higgins Clark women.
The only reason I finished it was to see how the vitamins plot fit into the story (spoiler: it didn't really, so she forced something).
The "mystery" man following Regan? Not for a minute did I think it was anyone else but the guy from the garage. I'll admit I was surprised at who it was, but otherwise the characters in this one are so dumb.
Zelda... you're dumb.
Regan... you're probably dumber.
Norman was kind of interesting, but it would have been more interesting if he wasn't such a "good guy"
Maggie/old lady story line was dumb.
Also the ending happened so fast and perfectly- was there something wrong with the tea or not? How did Zelda get sick in the first place?
Anyway, I'm glad other people disliked this book as much as I did.