Not Stephen King
I said I’d review ‘The Memory of Trees’ by F G Cottam because I was enjoying it so much. Then I reached the ending that wasn’t! A fabulous build up with bushes that moved and monsters in caves and a beautiful lady ghost – ruined by too swift deaths. What is the point of getting the reader attached to the idea of a modern hero overcoming ancient magic and then letting it all fizzle out? I would still recommend it but there could have been so much more.
I think this happens so often with novelists and I’m as guilty as anyone else. We seem to speed up as we reach the end and leave out details that we would have included earlier in the book. It’s as if, because we know the ending, we are in a hurry to get there. The last bite of a chocolate should be as delicious as the first but we gobble it and then wish we had tasted it for a bit longer.
That’s how I felt about this book. I wanted more. However, as a change from King and Koontz, the story kept me enthralled.