Oh Really?

It is difficult to measure my contempt for the writing of James Carlos Blake. It isn't his fault. My discovery 26 hours ago of this historical novelist prompted a skewed expectation and my regrets were immediate. He even fucking uses epigrams from Cormac on two of the three books the library had on the shelves. I don't care about the Everglades being as "sharp as razors."

Jesus.

I guess I will divide my time between the ten pounder (Fisk) and the eight pounder (Leader).