I didn’t find anything to like about The Russians, the new thriller by Ben Coes, but I WAS amused by his petulant temper tantrum over my review for the Associated Press.
I rarely write negative book reviews. I think life is too short to waste hours reading a bad book, so if I’m not enjoying one, I usually toss it away after a few chapters. But The Russians is such a train wreck that couldn’t tear my eyes away. You can read the text of my review by clicking on this link
Meanwhile, here, for your enjoyment, is the email he sent me about it last night:
“I just read your review. Thanks for spelling my name right.
“You should have passed on the review. What if someone were to critique your silly little books as if they were fact as you seemed to have done? They’re fiction you silly looking poseur. Fortunately not a lot of people read your books and hopefully that carries over to your reviews!
“You come from a mill town ‘where analogies were as rare as truffles’ or whatever your asinine bio says and have the gall to opine on my writing? I have more talent in my left testicle than you will ever have.
Perhaps next time he should let his left testicle do the writing.
Coes is arguably the second-worst thriller writer still in business today. His relationship to facts and craft are passing, at best.