L. J. Davis
Locked within almost every first-rate journalist there seems to be a third-rate novelist fairly shrieking to be let out. It is a familiar phenomenon, rather along the lines of an occupational disease, and if I pause here for a moment to dwell on it, I do so in part to put off the dread moment when [Nicholson at Large], Ward Just's second third-rate novel in five years, will have to be discussed. It is not a prospect to be looked forward to….
They have such high hopes—the Ward Justs, the Joe Flahertys, the Harrison Salisburys, the Jimmy Breslins, to name but a few. Their earnestness, their dedication, their devotion is graven large on every opaque sentence they write, on every...
(The entire section is 489 words.)