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I picked up Riptide, by Donn Cortez the other day. I haven't read any CSI:Miami novels before and didn't know what to expect. I loved it. Donn Cortez has a wonderful, engaging style, the characters, insofar as I know them, were IC, and the story had tight twists and turns. There were several gut-busting moments in the story, and I loved the interplay between Calleigh and Ryan. Cortez writes circles around Collins and Kaminsky, and oh, how I wish he were writing the NY tie-ins instead of Kaminsky, the pin-headed hack. I don't care what brand of reefer he's toking, Flack is not 40. Asshole.
There were some minor niggles. Horatio is nauseatingly noble, but that's par for the show's course, so I can't fault him there. It's just...gah. A hero that is never wrong or occasionally an asshole is someone who should be drubbed to death with their saintly ego. He encounters a wheelchair-bound, double-amputee, and of course, he knows just what to do or say, and he knows just how to pick her up without causing embarrassment or pain. I'm sorry; I missed the episode where Horatio got his rehab therapist credentials. Feh. At least Mac and Grissom can get as wanky as the rest of us.
And speaking of cripple cred, why, why, why must even accomplished writers default to one of two stereotypes when writing disabled characters? Why must we be portrayed as either bitter, militant misanthropes who resent the abled for their ability to walk and secretly want to die, or as Zen, long-suffering souls with dewy eyes and fathomless patience? Some exist in a sliding-scale median between the two extremes, and we often display characteristics of both and neither. Cortez opts for option A, and I'm lucky I didn't grind my teeth right out of my head or suffer a fatal, irritation-induced aneurysm. Of course, Horatio and his magical shades of will-draining empathy overcome her antipathy in the end. No one, it seems, can resist the smarm.
For those who missed it, here is Part VI of "Wonderland":
Part VI
There were some minor niggles. Horatio is nauseatingly noble, but that's par for the show's course, so I can't fault him there. It's just...gah. A hero that is never wrong or occasionally an asshole is someone who should be drubbed to death with their saintly ego. He encounters a wheelchair-bound, double-amputee, and of course, he knows just what to do or say, and he knows just how to pick her up without causing embarrassment or pain. I'm sorry; I missed the episode where Horatio got his rehab therapist credentials. Feh. At least Mac and Grissom can get as wanky as the rest of us.
And speaking of cripple cred, why, why, why must even accomplished writers default to one of two stereotypes when writing disabled characters? Why must we be portrayed as either bitter, militant misanthropes who resent the abled for their ability to walk and secretly want to die, or as Zen, long-suffering souls with dewy eyes and fathomless patience? Some exist in a sliding-scale median between the two extremes, and we often display characteristics of both and neither. Cortez opts for option A, and I'm lucky I didn't grind my teeth right out of my head or suffer a fatal, irritation-induced aneurysm. Of course, Horatio and his magical shades of will-draining empathy overcome her antipathy in the end. No one, it seems, can resist the smarm.
For those who missed it, here is Part VI of "Wonderland":
Part VI
