When I boarded the Queen Elizabeth 2 at Southampton, UK, for my first Atlantic crossing in August 2002, I felt like an impostor.
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Maybe in declaring my dissatisfaction with the 81-year-old James's newest work, I'm committing a not uncommon reviewer's sin: reviewing the book I think ought to have been written.
Slow down? Not likely. The acclaimed detective-fiction author is working on a new novel, has another mystery planned and continues to sit in the House...
In the US we create unidimensional detectives because we're focused on one-upping each other on plot devices that show the weirdest ways to die or the coolest tricks in the lab.
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