Twelve Sharp

Reading the last page of Janet Evanovich’s novel, TWELVE SHARP, brings the same sensation as the last loop on a roller coaster. It came to an abrupt stop signaling this ride was over, and I put my feet back on the ground. Like a roller coaster, these books make me want to get right back in line for another ride by reading the next installment in the series. The popularity of these books is undeniable for the same reasons people love roller coasters. When you start reading, you almost need to buckle up because although the book swoops and dives in places, the pace is fast and furious nearly the entire ride. Any lulls in the action are just there because the author is taking you up and getting ready to go screaming down again.

Evanovich has a knack for creating loveable, quirky, over-the-top characters. Everyone who inhabits this rollicking tale has a larger than life personality—from her “loony” Grandma Mazur, to her slime-y boss Vinnie, her highly eccentric co-workers, and the various misfits and penny ante criminals she attempts to round up after they skip bail.

Evanovich writes snappy, frequently way off-color dialogue that I found entertaining in the same way a well-told dirty joke is amusing. Knowing your audience is everything with this, and Evanovich knows that there are lots of us out there who will hoot and chortle at the slapstick antics of her protagonist, Stephanie Plum, and gang. Evanovich creates unabashedly sexy characters and situations, often down-right naughty descriptions and clever wordplay with what comes off as an effortless yarn by someone on top of her game. My straight laced father would be disgusted by this book and dismiss Evanovich as a Vulgar-ian who goes for the cheap laugh, but I believe he would be in the minority judging by the times this series has hit the New York Times Bestseller bullseye.

Along with incredibly witty and naughty dialogue laced with puns and double entendres, Evanovich’s physical descriptions of characters kept me in stitches and allowed me to believe these eccentric souls could really inhabit the same planet as the rest of us. For example, she introduced us to Caroline Scarzolli, who they were attempting to haul in after her arrest for shoplifting, as “seventy-two years old according to her bond sheet. She had skin like an alligator and bleached blond hair that was teased into a rat’s nest…She was wearing orthopedic shoes, fishnet stockings, a tight spandex miniskirt and a skimpy tank top that showed a lot of wrinkled cleavage.” I had to take a break and get a drink of water during that passage when I got to the wrinkled cleavage line the author so casually tossed on the end of the sentence. That is a vintage Evanovich detail.

I’m guessing these books may also appeal to guys because of the fast action. I lost track of how many times someone’s gun went off, intentionally or unintentionally. People shot off guns nearly as often as they shot off their mouths, and by the end of the book there were bullet holes in walls, ceilings, cars, telephones and people. Of course, like a comedy, action film, no one takes any of the gunplay too seriously. In fact, this reader was even fairly unconcerned when Ranger was shot during the grand finale. TWELVE SHARP is no suspense thriller. It succeeds brilliantly by not pretending to be anything other than what is is--a rowdy, lightning fast and satisfying escapist read.