Hybrid

Christopher Ward is a writer with a problem. He potters his lonely way about his huge house in the knowledge that his books are no longer selling as they did - he is an author who is deeply out of fashion. As he struggles with his latest novel, writer's block takes a deeper and deeper hold, and he turns to the comforts of alcohol in the attempt to blot out the growing problems. Yet suddenly the words flow, and we read his novel alongside the story of his struggle. But is Ward really writing it? He remembers nothing and mysterious shadows and lights in his office further deepen the mystery, as do the phone calls to prostitutes he can't remember making and the visits to the cinema he fails to recall. Is he losing his mind, or is something far more sinister happening? This offering from the prolific Hutson (over 40 books so far, in various guises) is a mixture of his horror and thriller writing, but the horror largely takes a back seat. For long stretches the book-within-a-book dominates and only towards the end does the more familiar Hutson emerge as he tries to drag the story back to Edgar Allan Poe territory. It's a hybrid in both name and nature, and Hutson's fans may be disappointed by the lack of gore. But it's still well worth reading for the cleverness of the plotting and the sheer page-turning compulsion of the climactic section. (Kirkus UK)