Cold Granite

Cold Granite

By Stuart MacBride

I’m not even sure what this book was about. It fea­tured a police officer, some pedo­philiac child murders, Aber­deen and a really bad atti­tude towards woman and that was about it. It didn’t seem to be a crime novel or a thriller and it cer­tainly wasn’t a police pro­ced­ural. All it seemed to be was ten days in the life of a smug, tal­ent­less bas­tard incap­able of solv­ing crimes without fall­ing into extreme coin­cid­ences. It was really, really bad as far as crime nov­els go and if it wasn’t for all the dead moles­ted chil­dren I’m fairly cer­tain no-one would have paid that much atten­tion to it.

So that’s a hint for any aspir­ing crime writers — rather than get good at your genre you should just write sen­sa­tion­al­ists fear mon­ger­ing shite.

Although occa­sion­ally funny enough to make me laugh out loud (mostly at the Scot­tish­isms), I would not recom­mend this book to anyone.

Read some James Ell­roy instead.