Sadly, in my recent night of little sleep, I finished Deborah Crombie's, Water Like a Stone. Although, it's only the penultimate (at the moment) episode of her Kincaid/James series, I had already recently read her most recent tome, Where Memories Lie. Aside from her plots and writing ability, one thing I do like about the Kincaid/James series is that the two protagonists are two relatively normal and decent people in a good relationship. They're not quite as dysfunctional or offbeat as many mystery heroes.
Except for the most recent hot-off-the press release of All the Colours of Darkness, by Peter Robinson, I am also current with Inspector Banks. I imagine that I'll be getting hold of that one soon, but then what? It's not as though I can readily turn to another fave, Elizabeth George, because I've already read her latest Thomas Lynley novel, Careless in Red. Sigh. And I think that Martha Grimes is turning away from her Richard Jury series; at least she's going in other directions lately.
I know there are other series out there, such as Ruth Rendell's, Inspector Wexford, but I tend to lose track of where I am with her as every second novel is a non-Wexford. She's a great writer, perhaps the best of the lot, but I find her non-Wexford novels a bit dark and don't prefer them. And don't tell me about PD James' Inspector Dalgleish either because, aside from her latest, The Private Patient, I've also been there and done that. Double sigh. I've recently mentioned Rhys Bowen and especially her Evan Evans character, so perhaps I can excavate that mine for awhile, but beyond that I'm ever so slightly stuck as I'm not a huge fan of Reginald Hill or Ian Rankin. They're just okay for me (to quote my least favourite America Idol judge).
There is something strange about the first four authors that I mentioned: Crombie, George, Grimes, and Robinson. Except for Robinson, they're all Americans who have chosen to stage their mysteries in what my English grandmother used to call "The Old Country," which was a confusing expression to me when I was a kid. Even Peter Robinson is or was an expat Brit living in Canada although he now spends part of the year back in Yorkshire. Nevertheless, while he had primarily resided in Canada, he has placed Inspector banks firmly in Yorkshire. It makes me wonder if these authors have also appeal to those true Brits on the other side of the pond or if they prefer genuine British authors? Perhaps the authors that I have mentioned write in a manner more appealing to us colonials?
Somehow, both to me and these authors, mysteries set in The Old Country seem to work better than the typical American style mystery where a lone hero tends to drink too much and live out of seedy motel rooms while s/he single-handedly brings the perps to justice in an almost super heroic way. However, I've recently mentioned Canadian, Louise Penny, who is different: a Canadian who writes in a Canadian setting and does it quite well. Her Inspector Gamache who always seems to end up in the charming hamlet of Three Pines, has an old world charm and works with a competent team and is not exactly John Wayne riding into town on a white horse to make everything right again all on his own.
The point of all this? Very little. I have nothing to read!! Help!!!